Do Over
by Jeograph
Summary: Harry plods toward his death, toward the Dark Lord to give himself up, to make the greatest sacrifice of his life. Literally, his life. He goes to meet Death... But Death finds him first, and wants to make a deal. The question is Harry, do you think you can make things better? If you could make it all different. Would it all be better?
1. Chapter 1 - May 2, 1998

Chapter One

**May 2, 1998**

"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself." **― Andy Warhol. **

****

**From Chapter Thirty-Four, of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. By J.K. Rowling: **

_A swarm of dementors was gliding amongst the trees; Harry could feel their chill, and he was not sure he would be able to pass safely through it. He had no strength left for a Patronus. He could no longer control his own trembling. It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second. At the same time he thought that he would not be able to go on, and knew that he must. The long game was ended, the Snitch had been caught, it was time to leave the air. . . ._

_The Snitch. His nerveless fingers fumbled for a moment with the pouch at his neck and he pulled it out._

_I open at the close._

_Breathing fast and hard, he stared down at it. Now that he wanted time to move as slowly as possible, it seemed to have sped up, and understanding was coming so fast it seemed to have bypassed thought. This was the close. This was the moment._

_He pressed the golden metal to his lips and whispered, "I am about to die."_

_The metal shell broke open. He lowered his shaking hand, raised Draco's wand beneath the Cloak, and murmured, "Lumos."_

_The black stone with its jagged crack running down the center sat in the two halves of the Snitch. The Resurrection Stone had cracked down the vertical line representing the Elder Wand. The triangle and circle representing the Cloak and the stone were still discernible._

_And again Harry understood without having to think. It did not matter about bringing them back, for he was about to join them. He was not really fetching them: They were fetching him._

_He closed his eyes and turned the stone over in his hand three times._

Harry's trembling stopped, The chill of the dementors ceased and the smell of the grass disappeared. All about him was an eerie stillness.

He opened his eyes and looked around. It was, in fact, a perfect stillness, as though time itself had stopped. A few paces before him a single leaf, which should have been fluttering to the ground, was suspended, still, in mid air. Harry moved the few paces and reached out toward the suspended leaf.

"Curious isn't it?" came a smooth deep disembodied voice.

Startled, Harry pulled back his out stretched hand and spinning around, wand raised, shouted "Who's there?"

"Oh, you won't be needing that my boy." the voiced said with a chuckle. "Who would you wish me to be?"

Harry lowered Draco's wand. "I don't understand."

"I suppose you don't. No matter." the voice responded. "Suffice to say, you were on your way to meet me, but, I wanted to meet you first."

Realization dawned on Harry with sudden clarity. "Death?" he said.

"At your service," the voice stated. In front of Harry a darkness seemed to gather, in wisps spiraling toward a center and in a moment a hooded figure was stood in the spot. Before Harry could react the figure reached up and pushed back its hood revealing, to Harry's surprise, the handsome face of a dark haired young man.

"I dare say, you are not exactly as I'd have expected," Harry said. "Come to collect me then?"

"Well, no actually," Death said, his voice now softened to fit his visage. "I have come to strike a bargain." There was a pause. "You see, Harry, you have some objects that belong to me, and I would rather like them back."

Harry thought for a moment. "The Hallows?" he asked. Death nodded. "But, I only have two of them," he said, as he opened his palm and looked at the cracked stone in his hand.

"Ah... yes, well, you have two of them with you," Death replied. "But, you are the first mortal, since the day I foolishly bestowed these artifacts upon the Peverell brothers, to be the rightful master of all three."

"How can that be," Harry protested. "I have never touched the Elder wand."

"Touched it, no," Death pressed forward, "But you are never-the-less it's true master." There was a pause as Death seemed to be waiting for Harry to understand. Harry just shook his head. "Think Harry," Death continued. "The wand's allegiance always goes to he who defeats its present master."

"But..." Harry groped for an explanation. "Dumbledore was the Elder wand's master, and he was killed by Snape."

"Ah, yes, now you begin to understand," Death said. "Killed by Snape, but never defeated... You were there, Harry, you know the answer."

Harry's eyes widened as realization struck him. "It was Draco, Draco defeated Dumbledore on the Astronomy tower," he blurted out.

"Therefore?" Death encouraged.

It suddenly all made sense. "Therefore," Harry reasoned aloud, "the wand's allegiance passed to Draco, and when I defeated Draco and took his wand," Harry held up his hand showing Draco's wand. "The Elder wand's allegiance came to me."

"Bravo, Harry," Death clapped his hands congenially. "And so, you are the master of all three of the Deathly Hallows. Artifacts of mine which I would very much like returned."

Harry's mind was racing. Just a minute ago he was ready to face Voldemort, to sacrifice himself so that the Dark Lord could be defeated. Now he was at the edge of the forbidden forest, casually conversing with Death who... "You said, you were here to strike a bargain?" Harry asked.

"So I did," Death replied.

"Can you kill Voldemort for me?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Alas, that I cannot do. That is a job which the fates have assigned to you, Harry. It is not in my nature to determine the hour of a mortal's demise. I merely collect them upon that hour. To do else, is a lesson I have learned with grave difficulty, carries profound consequences".

"Then what can you possibly offer that would entice me to strike a deal?" Harry asked.

"If defeating Voldemort is your ultimate goal. You have in your possession all the knowledge you could possibly require to do so. What you lack, at this late hour, is time to do so on your own terms." Death paused, casually pulling his hood forward to obscure his features. "What I offer you, in return for the Hallows, is a one time use of this." Death raised his hand. As he did so all of the flesh disintegrated away. From his decrepit boney fingers, suspended on a shimmering golden chain, hung a beautiful pocket watch.

"A watch?" Harry questioned.

"More than a watch," Death said ominously, his voice returned to the low, slithering smooth tones which Harry had first heard. "To me this device measures the beats of every mortal heart, from first to last. To you, it can act as the most powerful of time-turners, delivering you to the very moment of any of your individual beats."

"So, I could go back in time," Harry began, "with all the knowledge and memories of this very moment, to some earlier time?"

"That is my offer," Death confirmed.

"But, Hermione says, there can be terrible consequences for any wizard that meddles with time."

"And so there can," Death acknowledged.

"I am guessing you will not tell me what those consequences may be," Harry asked.

"I cannot say, what has not yet happened," Death said with a chuckle. "For better, or for worse is yet to be determined. The question is, do you think you could make things better?"

Harry tried to imagine a plan of action, but the possibilities overwhelmed him. On impulse, following his gut alone, he reached out and grasped Death's watch. "You have a deal," he said.

At once harry found himself spinning. He closed his eyes against the violent blur that engulfed him, and he found his stomach rising up toward his throat. Before he passed out, he thought he could hear Death's self satisfied chuckle.

And then, nothing.

_ _  
**_Please review - Thanks_******

**NEXT**  
Chapter Two  
**May 2, 1998, Again**


	2. Chapter 2 - May 2, 1998, Again

Chapter Two  
**May 2, 1998, Again**

It was a cool, all around pleasant evening, with a light breeze coming up from the lake. The sky was punctuated by small clusters of softly floating cumulus clouds. Even though the sun would not set for nearly an hour–the bright lights of the Quidditch pitch were already blazing to ensure that the transition would not interrupt the game.

The stands were swollen with students, parents and guests, along with throngs of Quidditch enthusiasts from all over Britain. The bustle of the crowd created an excitement that was palpable from outside the Muggle style stadium. The brand new structure had been under construction for most of the year and represented a quantum leap in technology within the Wizard world, change that had come after years of reform by the Ministry of Magic and new laws that had dramatically softened the restrictions upon use and application of Muggle devices and sciences.

Hogwarts, under the leadership of Albus Dumbledore, who had worked tirelessly with the reformist Minister, had been at the forefront of societal change. What better place for the promotion of societal understanding than Hogwarts, where most Muggle-born Wizards receive their first indoctrination to the Wizard world.

The construction of the most state-of-the-art Quidditch stadium ever built, on the grounds of the school, was only the most recent of many expressions of change that had come over the last seventeen years – more was certainly on the way.

On either side of the oval stadium, high over the heads of the audience members were perched, two, huge black screens that appeared to, quite magically, display statistical data on each player's season. Every minute or so the information would change to that of another player and between the data, the screens displayed, brightly colored, moving, Wizard photo clips featuring highlights of that player's previous games. It was no secret that part of the reason for the capacity crowd was to see these wondrous displays of hybrid Wizard/Muggle technology.

The screens faded to black. A moment later a large letterform logo appeared, consisting of the letters BWBC. Beneath the logo were the words, _British Wizard Broadcasting Company_. The crowd quickly settled to a hush. An announcer's voice sounded, "Ladies and Gentleman of Wizarding Britain, your Minister for Magic, the honorable, Sirius Black."

An image of Minister Black filled the huge screen, an obviously robust, healthy and happy man, his black hair cropped to a neatly styled length, his handsome face adorned with a well groomed goatee, his gray eyes shining above an easy smile that had come to be his political trademark.

"Good evening citizens of Wizarding Britain. It is my happy honor to welcome you this evening to the inaugural broadcast of the newly formed BWBC. I am not here to make a political speech, or update you on the state of your Ministry. I am here, with you, to mark this historic moment, and recognize a step forward in magical/technological progress.

When we embarked together on reform some sixteen years ago we could not be certain that the path we set for ourselves would correct our societal ills, or that our new direction would yield positive results for Wizard kind as a whole. During these past years I have seen our change in view evolve from a closed, Wizard-centric, prejudicial and fear, or even hate filled societal core, that tried desperately to preserve a misplaced notion of Wizard purity– to a more open, welcoming society that recognizes that, that which makes us Wizards, as we have now discovered, springs from the very genetics which we share in common with our Muggle brothers and sisters. In recognizing that those among us who are born to non-magical, or half magical parentage are not in any way lesser beings, we have been able to recognize and admit also, that the Muggles, who we once considered as less than ourselves have surpassed us in creativity and inventiveness and created a society which despite it's many ills, thrives and grows, and enjoys a quality of life which we once thought was meant only for Wizards and Witches. I commend you, and honor you all for the brave choices behind us, and I have confidence that we shall meet splendidly the many struggles that inevitably lay in our future.

This evening we celebrate the development and wide spread implementation of the newest of our hybrid technologies, Wizard television, and I can think of no better choice than the broadcast of one of our best cherished Wizard sports, played not by our professional teams, though I am told that will soon follow, but by our own next generation. So, without further ado, I welcome you to the broadcast of the final game of the 1998, Hogwarts, Quidditch cup.

Thank you, and enjoy."

The screens faded black once more.

The announcer's smooth voice returned. "Our guest commentators for tonight's game are, professional Quidditch players, and Hogwarts alumni, Anthony Berkhart, and Oliver Wood."

The screens flashed back to life displaying Anthony and Oliver seated in the announcer's booth.

"Welcome everyone to the final game of the Hogwart's school cup," Anthony began. "Oliver and I are honored to be here as your announcers for the evening."

"That's right Tony," Oliver continued, "and as Hogwart's alums we couldn't be more pleased to be here today in this new stadium, to call what I am certain will me a wonderful and exciting game."

"To anyone who has been following the Hogwart's season," Tony took over, "It is no surprise at all. Tonight's match is between, Slytherin house, and Gryffindor house, two exciting teams that have dominated the season. Series point standings sit at Gryffindor 590, and Slytherin 580, so the winning team in today's game will take the series. Now, Gryffindor is riding a six year winning streak and is clearly the team to beat. But, there are those who have been saying that this year's Slytherin team may just be up to the challenge, Any comments Oliver?"

"Well, I have read the press too Tony, but as a former Captain of the Gryffindor team myself, you know I could never agree. And, that is not just because of my own history. It comes down to a very simple fact. Harry Potter has just never been beaten. Since becoming the youngest Seeker in Hogwart's history, during his first year he has never failed to catch the snitch."

"That is true Oliver, but there are those who say a lucky streak like that has to end sometime."

"That argument assumes its luck, Tony. Don't forget, I've played with Harry. And I'm telling you I wouldn't bet any galleons on that assumption."

"You may be right Oliver, and I guess there are a lot of coaches out there that agree with you. Rumor has it that Potter has received contract offers from every team in the British league and even a few from other countries."

"I wouldn't be surprised, Tony, of course he is not the only excellent player in tonight's game. Both teams are comprised of student's whose skills could already be considered professional level. In fact, Ian Urquhart, Slytherin's sixth year Seeker has never lost to anyone but Potter, and their seventh year Beaters, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle, play with a singular intensity that can only be described as dangerous."

"Too true, but even their intense tactics may fall short tonight in the face of what we have come to know as the Gryffindor four. Harry Potter, and his best mates, Chaser, Draco Tonks, a seventh year, Keeper, Ron Weasley, also a seventh year, and Ron's little sister Ginevra their sixth year Chaser."

"Oh, I am warning you Tony, you had better never make the mistake of referring to Ginny Weasley by her given name, or as Ron's little sister, ever again, and especially not to her face. That girl is famous for her Bat-bogey hex, as well as her accomplishments on the Quidditch field."

"Sounds like you may have some inside insight Oliver. What gives these four players their chemistry?"

"Well, there is no secret there Tony. These kids grew up in one another's hip pockets and they have been playing Quidditch together since they were young enough to hold onto a broom. If you ever get a chance, just ask Minister Black to tell you a few stories–as Potter's God-father and guardian there is nothing he likes to talk about more."

"Thanks Oliver, if I ever meet the Minister I'll be sure to do just that. There is one huge burning question though, that the readers of Teen Witch Weekly would like answered. Do you know if there is any truth to the rumors of a romance brewing between Harry Potter, and his teammate Ginny?"

"Oh, no you don't Tony. Even if I could answer that question, I don't want to be mobbed outside the stadium by those rabid readers."

The screens image flashed to the stadium stands where a throng of angry looking, starry eyed, girls were holding banners sporting slogans like, 'Potter is the best,' and 'Marry me Harry!'

"Play it safe then Oliver, but I am guessing you know something."

"Well, I am not saying anything Tony, and fortunately there is no time to dwell on the subject as it looks like the teams are ready to take to the pitch."

"Right you are Oliver, the Slytherin team is entering the pitch now. Care to introduce them?"

"Certainly Tony, the Slytherin Chasers are leading the pack. First is Violet Vaisey, fourth year, followed by Reggie Higgs, fifth year, and Samantha Davis, Third year, the youngest player in today's game..."

The atmosphere in the Minister's box was jubilant as Sirius entered. Two security Wizards, in black robes, nodded to him as he entered. "Good evening Minister Black," they said in unison.

"Evening boys," Sirius said as he turned to the man on his left. "Don't tell me you are going to hang back here all evening Laurel? Or you Hardy? I know its your job to protect me but I also know how much you two love Quidditch. You can at least stand where you can see both the door and the game."

"Yes Sir, thank you Sir," they again said in unison.

Sirius chuckled as he passed, and turning his head he said, "You can get something from the buffet as well you know. It's a game, not a cabinet meeting."

Moving into the rear of the room Sirius spied a lovely dark haired woman talking to a giddy, excited little Elf. "Andromeda, he called." he threw out his arms expectantly.

The woman turned and moved toward him greeting him with a warm hug. "Sirius, you look well," she said as he released her.

"Oh, I am fine," he said dismissively. "And how is my favorite cousin? I am so glad you could make it."

Andromeda laughed, "Me, not make it, to Draco's final game? Why, Dobby would never forgive me."

"Yes," Sirius chuckled jovially, "Where is that little rascal?"

"Dobby is being here, Honorable Minister, Mr. Black Sir." The squeaky voice of the little elf sounded from near Sirius' feet.

Sirius immediately kneeled down to face Dobby on his level. "Well, there you are Dobby. I guess thanks is in order. I assume you are responsible for this elaborate buffet?" The little Elf blushed furiously and nodded. "Thank you, Dobby," Sirius said with genuine warmth, causing Dobby to turn a deeper scarlet. "Now, Dobby, once the game starts, you must promise me that you will take your seat and watch the game. People can get the own drinks you know." Dobby grinned and twitched a little uncomfortably.

"Yes Sir, Dobby is promising," Dobby took a shy step backward.

"And one other thing Dobby, you must also promise not to try to help the boys win the game."

Dobby grinned as wide as his face would stretch and said in a mock hurt voice, "Mr. Minister Black Sir, Dobby would never. His Tonks, Harry and his Weaseys, win every game without help. They is the bestest Quidditchy players ever! Dobby is surprised you is not knowing this."

"Thanks again Dobby," Sirius smiled. He winked at Dobby, and the proud Elf turned and trotted away toward the box seats.

Sirius stood back up. "You have made it clear to him Andromeda, that the new legislation makes him a free Elf and he can leave you any time he pleases?"

"Oh, I have told him," Andromeda smiled. "He had the most dreadful panic attack. Poor thing thought I was going to send him away. No, he will never leave us, he is far too devoted to my Draco and your Harry."

Sirius smiled warmly. A moment later a serious expression crossed his face and he pulled his cousin into another hug. "I am sorry, Andromeda, about Ted and Nymphadora," he whispered.

Andromeda pushed gently back from the hug and dabbed her eyes with a kerchief she produced from seemingly nowhere. "Pish-posh," she said with a slight choke in her voice. Then her face turned a bit stern. "It is high time you quit trying to apologize for what's past, cousin. That was years ago now, and none of that business was your fault." She paused and her expression softened, "besides, you brought me Draco, and he has been the joy of my life." The two smiled at one another.

Just then a voice was heard from the seating area. "Padfoot! get down here. The game is about to begin." Lupin, standing in the front row of seats was waving him down. At once the whole seating area turned to see him and a hail of greetings came his way.

Making his way down to his seat he quickly extended greetings to the many Ministry personnel, and their families, occupying the last two rows of box seats.

Having been Minister for nearly fifteen years it was no accident that Sirius knew them all by name, from Madam Amelia Bones, Chief Witch of the Wizengamot, there with her niece Susan, and her boyfriend Michael Corner, to Jorey Porkins, Ministry Janitor, and winner of the first, all Ministry box seat raffle. He was there with his wife Millicent and their children, Rex, Malik, Pearl and Regina, none of whom where old enough yet to attend Hogwarts.

The second row was occupied almost entirely by the Weasley clan, and a few guests, including Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. Sirius stepped past the girls and greeted Molly Weasley with a warm hug, and Arthur with a firm handshake. Arthur and his boys thanked Sirius profusely for the seats, to which he replied "Nonsense, we're all family here," which of course they were owing to the fact that both Molly and Arthur were distant cousins, and how close they had become over the years, what with Harry and Draco summering so often at The Burrow, enjoying the friendship of peers, and the family atmosphere of the large clamoring household.

After a few brief words with the Weasley's and a promise to show for next Sunday supper, Sirius turned back to the two girls at the end and greeted them warmly.

"Hermione, Luna," he smiled, "Very glad you two could make it, I half expected you to sit with your houses?"

"Mrs. Weasley made us promise," Hermione whispered.

"As well she should have," Sirius laughed, "From the things I have been hearing, you are practically a Weasley already, and if Ron has anything to say about it you surely will be one day," he said teasingly.

Hermione turned beet red, but couldn't make her smile go away. She giggled nervously. "Minister, we have not been dating that long," she said in protest.

"The way I hear it, it has been nearly two whole years now, and obvious to all your friends for years before that," he said adding a mischievous wink.

Before Hermione could formulate a rebuttal he turned to Luna. "Luna, my dear, you are lovely, the picture of your beautiful mother. Where are your parents, anyway?"

"Oh," her eyes brightened, "Daddy and Mother are gone on an expedition in the Carpathian Mountains. Daddy thinks there is a rogue coven of Vampires, hiding there and Mother is looking for a rare strain of high altitude Wolfsbane. She is hoping to improve upon the standard Wolfsbane potion as a help to the Werewolf community. But I think they are really off on their annual honeymoon," Luna smiled innocently.

Sirius smiled knowingly. "And your twin brothers?" he asked.

Luna brightened again. "Aphelion and Azimuth are down in the Hufflepuff seats, They wanted to be with their friends," she said.

"Probably just as well," Sirius said pointedly, "Good idea, I think, to keep them separated from Fred and George as much as possible."

The girls giggled, knowing well the reputations of both sets of twins.

"And, has Draco been treating you well," Sirius asked finally, "or have you dumped him already?"

It was Luna's turn to blush, which she did, but not nearly to the degree Sirius was looking for. Instead, with hardly skipping a beat she adopted a formal voice and said "He prefers everyone call him Tonks. Family should know that. And, he has been a perfect gentleman, thank you very much."

"Damn," Sirius said in mock disappointment. "I thought I'd been a bigger influence on him than that." He winked at Luna.

Immediately, Luna leaned close and in a pseudo whisper she said. "I said he's been a perfect gentleman." she emphasized the word perfect. "And, a perfect gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." She leaned back and returned his wink.

"Luna!" Hermione exclaimed, as Sirius barked out a full laugh.

"Oh, I like you Luna–I do like you," Sirius said as he turned away still laughing.

At the front row, Sirius greeted a few of his advisors and Deputy Minister Shacklebolt, before reaching his friend Remus Lupin and greeting him with an embrace. He waved greetings to more Ministry personnel down the rest of the row, and his cousin Andromeda seated next to Dobby at the end. Lastly he greeted Headmistress McGonagall before taking his seat between Lupin and Albus Dumbledore who was sitting quietly.

He leaned over to the man who had been a most prized advisor and friend and said. "I am so glad to have you here Albus." Dumbledore was staring out across the stadium, but didn't appear to be focused on anything in particular. Sirius waited a moment for a response, but then patted the older man's hand affectionately.

Minerva leaned over from the seat next to Dumbledore and straightened the blanket across his legs and lap. "He is having a very good day, today, and I know he is happy to be here."

Suddenly, Dumbledore straightened a bit and his eyes seemed to focus. He looked at both Minerva and Sirius at his sides and said. "Yes, yes, very happy to be here. Having a wonderful time. Harry and I are both having a wonderful time." He looked intently at Sirius as though he had a great deal to say, and no words with which to say it.

"Yes, Albus, I am quite certain Harry is having the time of his life." He pointed out at one end of the pitch. "See Albus, Harry is coming onto the field now. He is the last player to be introduced. The game is about to start."

Dumbledore leaned closer, his eyes following to where Sirius was pointing. He smiled. "Not that Harry," he whispered. Then he leaned forward in his seat and pointed to another place at the opposite end of the pitch, just beneath the Gryffindor goal posts. A place where there was no one to be seen. "The other Harry, he said." Slipping back against his backrest he promptly appeared to fall asleep.

Minerva fussed with the blanket again, her concern obvious. Sirius leaned closer. "It has gotten worse?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, "these moments of lucidity are few and far between now."

"And the Healers at St. Mungos?" Sirius asked.

"They still don't know," Minerva responded despondently. "They keep saying it is some form of Wizard Dementia, like what the Muggles call Alzheimer's. But clearly there is a magical dimension to it. They say he is radiating huge amounts of magical energy."

"Well, that much I can tell just sitting close to him," Sirius said. "We mustn't lose hope, Minerva." He took her hand and held it comfortingly for a moment. "There is always hope."

The Headmistress nodded finally and forced a small smile. They both sat back in their seats.

The whistle sounded and the trunk flung open releasing the Golden snitch, the quaffle and the two bludgers, all of which burst straight up into the air to the level of play. From above, Harry registered the players rushing toward the center, but he concentrated on the Snitch, which ascended fastest, hovered for a moment above the fray, and then disappeared to the left in a blur he was unable to follow.

The bludgers flew off in opposite directions intercepted by Beaters, and Tonks emerged with the quaffel firmly in hand. He passed quickly to teammate Demelza Robins who in turn passed to Ginny, and the game was underway.

Ian Urquhart, opposite Harry, started a slow spiral around the pitch and Harry, in normal play form mirrored his movements.

Below them, the Gryffindor Chasers pushed hard toward the Slytherin Goal where Keeper, Bryan Bole moved lightly before the three goals. Ginny, in possession of the quaffle burst forward and took aim at the highest, center goal. She dodged a Bludger sent her way by one the Slytherin Beaters and at the last second passed to Tonks who was swooping up beneath her. Bryan adjusted right, and Tonks twirled suddenly sending the quaffle cleanly through the left-hand goal. The chime sounded, and Harry could hear the Anthony Berkhart, excitedly proclaiming the first points of the game for Gryffindor. Harry smiled, and keeping an eye on Ian, relaxed a little on his broom. Instinct told him the Golden Snitch would not be seen for a good while, and he so loved watching his team below, play the game.

Ron was in top form as the next volley saw the Slytherins push toward the Gryffindor goals. They swooped and passed dodging bludgers and the Gryffindor chasers until they were in position, and Thwap! Ron was there, casting the quaffle aside and right into Demelza's waiting arms.

Harry and Ian continued to circle as the game progressed. A strong Gryffindor push down center pitch and... Another goal for Gryffindor! The crowd was on its feet. Streamers and banger caps flooding onto the field from the stands. Moments later, an equally strong push from the Slytherins, and... Goal!

By the time Harry noticed the brilliant sunset the score had reached Gryffindor, 100 points, to Slytherin's 90, and below he could hear the excited voice of Oliver Wood proclaiming it one of best matches it had been his privilege to witness. And then, against the purple, scarlet and amber horizon he caught a small glint of gold. He looked over to see if Ian had caught it, but the boy had been looking down. Harry was off, streaking toward the glint as fast as he could make his Firebolt accelerate. Without looking he could sense Ian catch his movement and follow in his wake. The glint plunged down toward the pitch and Harry dove at a steep angle to intercept.

"This has certainly been one of the best games of Quidditch I've witnessed in a long time, Oliver," Anthony Berkhart proclaimed.

"I'll second that, Tony. It seems to come down to two very evenly matched teams. One team scores, and then the other counters."

"And you can't fault the Keepers here either, both Weasley and Bole have turned away as much as they've let slip through. They each show a tremendous amount of skill and determination and it has taken real skill on the part of these Chasers to make these points."

"With these two teams, Tony, this game is going to come down to the Snitch and who can catch it first."

"I suspect you are right Oliver... There's the toss and Bole puts the quaffle back in play with a short pass to Higgs. Higgs passes to Davis and Davis to Vaisey and oh! That was a close bludger by Coote."

"That broom is gonna need re-strawing for sure, Tony."

"Vaisey drops a vertical to Davis at center pitch who dodges an attempted steal by Weasley. And, there's another close bludger by Peakes. Davis to Higgs, Higgs to Vaisey, and the Gryffindor chasers are in defense posture. Tonks attempts to bat away the quaffel from Vaisey, who passes to Higgs. Weasley, is close on the goals and it's a fake left. Higgs scores on the right!"

"The crowd is on its feet again and that ties up this game, Tony!"

"And that's not the only excitement Oliver. It looks like Potter has spotted the snitch!"

"Look at that speed, Tony! And, is he... He is! He's into a corkscrew!"

"How can he follow anything and spin like that?!"

"Urquhart, is hot on his tail, but can't seem to match that speed. The snitch is plunging hard toward the action."

"And here come the bludgers, Crabbe and Goyle are sending both into Potter's path!"

"Peaks intercepts, sending one bludger back at Goyle. The other passes through Potter's corkscrew twists... It's a miss! Urquhart is hanging back waiting to see the direction the snitch will go."

"The snitch plunges through play level and makes a sharp turn toward the Slytherin goals."

"Potter's in trouble, he's... He's..."

"Impossible! Potter makes the turn! He pulled out of a corkscrew into sloth position! And he made the turn! Have you ever seen anything like it?!"

"No one has Tony, I don't think that's ever been done before!"

"And Potter is still after the Snitch rounding the Slytherin goal posts and skirting the crowd."

"And here comes Urquhart. He swoops down into the pursuit and hits Potter with a body check."

"No surprise there, Oliver. But, Potter won't be slowed down by those tactics."

"No, in fact Tony, as they round the pitch, just above the crowd Potter is pulling ahead and reaching for the snitch. This could be the end of the match!"

"Oh! Gryffindor scores! All eyes are on Potter and the snitch and his teammates use the distraction wisely."

"Tony, this is Quidditch at its best! Urquhart checks Potter again and the snitch jumps ahead! In fact, where did it go?!"

"Potter and Urquhart, seem to have lost it as well. Yes, they are slowing and moving back above the main play level. Oliver, you've played with Potter, have you ever seen anything like that before?"

Never, Tony, not even in a practice, I know professional Seekers who would swear that couldn't be done. I think we'll be talking about that move for years."

Slytherin has the quaffle and the push is on to even the score. Higgs to Vaisey, Vaisey to Davis, Davis to Higgs, and back to Davis. These players all over the pitch. Oh! Davis takes a Bludger to the shoulder, but she's okay, passes to Higgs and there's the throw."

"Ron Weasley is on fire, what a block!"

"Robins recovers the quaffel, and here we go. Pass to Weasley. Weasley dodges left and passes right to Tonks. Back to Robins, and Oh! Coots bats away a bludger just in time! Robins to Weasley again, and back to Tonks! He shoots... He scores!"

"What a bad break for Bole. These players must be getting tired. That makes the score 120 to 100, Gryffindor, and this is still anyone's game."

"Not for long, I think Tony. The snitch is back in play and it looks like Urquhart has a jump on Potter! Could this be the end of a six year winning streak?!"

"The snitch turns tight around the Gryffindor goal posts, Urquhart reaches for the grab, but he can't hold the turn. Right into the boards!"

"That's gonna hurt tomorrow, Tony."

"Potter seizes the opening and he is close on the snitch as it plunges toward the grass. How can he fly so low? He's gonna catch a knee! This will not be pretty!"

"Don't worry Tony, I've seen Potter lay onto his broom many times, the boy has wicked control."

"Both Crabbe and Goyle are batting bludgers at Potter and those boys look angry. Look at the divots those bludgers have left in the field. If either of those had connected Potter would be in the hospital wing for sure. Urquhart is back in play heading to intercept as the snitch rounds the Slytherin posts. No one can turn that tight, it's Potter's turn to hit the boards. No! No! Potter swings to the side, plants his feet and kicks off the boards! This is incredible!"

"What a move! But, that trajectory change has cost him some momentary speed and now the snitch appears to be headed straight at Urquhart. He's going for the grab and.. Oh! he must have touched it, so close!"

"Potter zips past Urquhart at breakneck speed and he is poised to get the snitch, arm outstretched... The snitch arcs upward to a straight vertical ascent but Potter is pushing hard, Urquhart is following but just can't match speed. Folks this is it, he's... he's... Yes! Potter has got the snitch!"

"That's one hundred fifty points to Gryffindor and the end of this game! The crowd is on its feet as Potter waves the snitch triumphantly! His teammates are headed to congratulate him."

"An exciting end to a very exciting game Oliver, and that secures the Hogwarts Quidditch cup for Gryffindor once again. Look at the disappointment on the faces of the Slytherin team. Crabbe and Goyle look ready to throttle someone. I recommend keeping a distance folks. What's this, Crabbe and Goyle are tossing the bludgers and it looks like they are going to... They wouldn't... the game is over!"

"They are, they are batting the bludgers at Potter. They'll be banned for this! Look out Harry!"

"Potter doesn't see this coming! He'll... Oh no! Oh no! One of Potter's teammates just flew into the path of the bludgers and has been knocked off their broom. It's... It's... Yes, it's Ginny Weasley and she has fallen to the ground. She isn't moving. Merlin this can't be good!"

"Her teammates are rushing to her aid! We can't see clearly from the booth, but folks, this does not look good! This is not good at all!"

_ _  
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**NEXT**  
Chapter Three  
**Time is Seldom Time Enough**


	3. Chapter 3 - Time is Seldom Time Enough

Chapter Three  
**Time is Seldom Time Enough**

****

**Halloween night, 1981. **

Harry crouched beneath the trees outside the little cottage in Godric's Hallow. He'd been looking for the house for some time. He knew where it was located, having been there in another time, but finding it in this time, while under a _Fidelius_ charm, had proven a bit problematic. He followed his hunch that his parents could not resist the festivities of All Hallows' Eve, and so he was not surprised that an exception had been created for the Holiday and around noon the cottage had become visible, in what had previously appeared to be a vacant lot. Under a disillusionment charm, he was there to see the evenings trick-or-treaters come and go.

His heart had leapt every time he watched his mother, or father, open the cottage door and happily dispense treats to the eager children. He could not help but smile each time he'd caught a glimpse of his younger self dressed in an adorable lion costume, smiling and giggling. Even then, it seemed, his parents were anticipating his placement in Gryffindor house.

He wanted to run into the house, throw his arms around his parents, hug them tight, and warn them to run. He knew such contact would be far too dangerous. He had already caused too many deaths, changed things too drastically. He was more determined than ever to finish this game and protect his younger self from the life he remembered. The trick-or-treaters had dwindled as the night wore on, till eventually the streets had grown silent and the lights had dimmed in the surrounding houses, and the cottage itself appeared to fade away once more. It was approaching Midnight. Time was getting short and he was unsure how this would all play out. He was too close to fail now, not after coming so far.

Movement caught his eye and he could see two figures approaching up the road. One was tall and lean wearing a hooded cloak, the other shorter and slightly built, hunched at the shoulders. This was it. But where was the snake... Where was Nagini? It would all be for nothing if she was not with her master. She was the final Horcrux, and because she was a living creature she was the most defenseless of the six. Voldemort would keep her near, but where was she?

Harry crept toward the gate between the low wall and the hedgerow. The gate opened and the two figures proceeded up the walk. Harry sensed the beginning of panic and he clutched his wand tighter in one hand, the hilt of a Black ancestral dagger in the other. He had honed the blade to razor sharpness in preparation for this night. Voldemort stopped several paces from where he obviously knew the house to be, and pulling out his wand began reciting a ward detection spell. The result came quickly as several layers of ward began to appear translucent and wispy, but clearly evident. The cottage became visible once more.

"Master, perhaps the wards are too powerful, perhaps we should..." Wormtail whined pathetically.

"Quiet, coward!" Voldemort commanded. "You have already betrayed the Potters. Your only role now is to protect Nagini, while I dispatch the child." Voldemort turned. In full concentration he began to counter the wards.

Harry stopped holding his breath. _Nagini is here,_ he thought, _It could all still work._

Then he saw her, slithering under the gate, cautiously following her master's voice, her long tongue tasting the air. She stopped, and turning her head toward Harry, she whispered. "Who hides there, friend or foe?"

She was much smaller than the snake Harry remembered from his previous encounters. But while he remembered her, she could have no knowledge of him in this place and time.

"I know your master, Nagini," Harry whispered back in parseltongue. He did, in fact, know much more about her master than he could say, so the statement was not a lie. That was a good thing as telling a lie could be problematic in snake language.

"You, can speak," Nagini stated with what passed as surprise for the cold blooded creature. "Why do you hide?" she asked while slithering a bit closer.

"Because, I do not trust the frightened one, he is panicky and I fear duplicitous. He may betray your master at any moment." Harry replied quickly, again, without telling the snake any lies.

Nagini slithered even closer and raised her head up behind the hedge to the height of Harry's face. "Yes," she whispered finally after a tense pause, "He is vermin, but he has knowledge my master needs." She paused again. "You are wise to hide, even if you are here for our protection, my master does not take kindly to any who act without his order." Again the snake paused. "I will not reveal your presence," she whispered finally.

The wards around the cottage collapsed and with only a deeply satisfied chuckle, Voldemort proceeded to the door and thrust it open with a silent spell. Without even a hesitant step The dark Lord disappeared into the house.

Harry could see lights flicker to life in the upper windows and he knew he had precious little time. He stood up behind the bushes, still concealed by his disillusionment charm., he could feel anger coursing through his bones.

Wormtail turned suddenly and looking at the spot where Harry stood, brandished his wand calling, "Who's there?"

Nagini slithered forward from beneath the hedge. "Oh, it's just you." Wormtail said dismissively. "Stupid snake," he said under his breath.

Harry dropped his disillusionment charm. "You brought him to the Potters," Harry said flatly, "How does it feel to betray your friends who trust you?"

"_Stupefy_" Wormtail cast in a panic.

Harry easily deflected the attack with a shield. As expected Wormtail transformed into his rat form, but Harry was ready, hit him with his own "_Stupefy_" and the plump rat rolled immobile into the grass. "A small treat for you Nagini," he said in parseltongue. "Let's call it a thank you."

The snake looked back momentarily and in an instant was on the still rat, extending its lower jaw and swallowing the rat whole.

Harry cast an urgent look at the house and heard the sound of spell blasts. His father was obviously dueling with Voldemort.

He moved toward Nagini cautiously. "Tasty?" He asked.

Nagini turned, extending her body upward to help the rat slip down her throat. "Yes, thanks," she hissed.

The Dagger flashed faster than the snake could react and it's head dropped clean from its body. Harry paused for only a second as sickly green smoke rose from the severed neck of the snake's corpse with a pathetic other worldly scream. He dropped the dagger, and in a panic turned and bolted for the cottage door. Harry had not been fast enough. All of his planning and work and he was failing to save his parents. If that was how fate would have it, at least he would save himself, and the people he loved in his memories from a life threatened by Voldemort.

At the base of the stairs he saw his father's lifeless body, but he could not pause. He forced himself forward taking the stairs four at a time. He reached the top and faced the open door.

There before him beyond the edge of Voldemort's billowing robe was his mother. She was standing before his cot, wandless, pleading, and the words she was speaking struck Harry as an unwelcome memory, he froze. "No, anything, anything, just don't hurt my son, don't hurt Harry," Lilly Potter screamed.

"Move out of the way, you stupid woman, or you will lose your life as well. One of my favoured, has plans for you," Voldemort said.

Panic flashed in his mother's eyes, and Harry suddenly realized. It was Snape. Voldemort had promised his mother to Snape! Despite Snape's memories from a future Harry alone remembered, memories that had swayed Harry's opinion and made him feel grateful to the man– despite his actions and his professions of a life long love for Harry's mother, here in this moment, Snape's motivations were clear. What was most clear to Harry was that Snape's obsessions had nothing to do with anything remotely similar to real love. The epiphany sickened Harry and bile rose in his throat.

Lilly turned her back on Voldemort and Harry knew, he remembered, even though he could not hear her now, that she was saying, "Harry, my darling boy. Mummy loves you, always."

Harry's mind screamed, but before a sound could reach his lips he heard Voldemort's voice, "_Avada Kadavra._"

The sickly green light issued forth from the Dark Lord's wand and engulfed Lilly Potter. She gurgled and choked and fell dead, at the foot of baby Harry's cot.

Harry's voice exploded, a single word, issuing forth with the resonance of thunder upon a stormy plain. "NO!" In that instant a force of unbridled magic burst from Harry's wand, streaming at Lord Voldemort, with all the anger and hatred, anguish, confusion, and purity of love that ever rested upon the young man's soul. The blinding burst struck the Dark Wizard like an explosive blast, dragging with it and demolishing everything in its path.

When Harry's vision cleared he was standing at the top of the stairs. The hallway and carpet were scorched and black the wallpaper bubbled and torn. The doorway and front wall of the Nursery were simply gone. The furniture and wall hangings of the nursery were crushed to dust the windows blown out by the frames the ceiling and walls collapsed. All that remained untouched was his mother's body and the baby's cot surrounded by a shield of pure love. The baby Harry sat sobbing quietly in the cot, confused shock evident in his cubby expression.

Against the far wall Voldemort stood charred and burned, his flesh still smoldering sickeningly, against the bare blackened brick.

Harry stepped forward cautiously. A strained low chuckle filled the air and Voldemort's eyes snapped open. He peeled himself from the brick, literally leaving remnants of cloak, clothing and flesh stuck behind him. "You cannot beat me, whoever you are. I cannot be killed," he proclaimed ominously, "I am far greater than this weak vessel of bone and flesh." He lumbered a step forward.

Harry reached where there had once been a doorway. "You are wrong Tom," he said weakly. "I will beat you. You can be killed. I have already done it, six times."

"Impossible," Voldemort screamed with false confidence. Harry could see the glint of panic in Tom Riddle's eyes. Voldemort raised his arm painfully, leveling his charred, but whole wand at Harry. "_Avada Kadavra_," he screamed angrily.

The spell issued forth as though in slow motion and Harry watched it come. The sickly green light engulfed him. Harry felt it, like an invisible force trying to turn him inside out. He felt something break off inside himself, like a leach dowsed in salt. His scar burned worse than ever he remembered. There was an audible pop and he felt blood streaming down his face. But, he knew also, that the sliver of Voldemort's soul, placed inside him at this same moment in time, but in another time, was now and forever, gone.

He raised his own wand arm, surprised, and not, that his flesh glowed a sickly green–that the _Avada Kadavra_ would yet take him, and he said, simply, "_Stupefy._"

It was not the most powerful spell ever cast, and it was not the death assuring unforgivable, but it was enough. Tom Riddle, so near death already, fell painfully backward onto the rubble of brick and plaster, heaved a gurgling last breath, and ceased to be.

All pain left Harry. He stared at the body before him and watched as the last remaining sliver of twisted soul rose from the corpse and in apparent desperation flung itself at the baby Harry. The ragged, miniscule point of dim light dissipated into nothing against the magical shield still protecting the child.

He looked down on himself and watched impassively as his own body, clothing and wand included, disintegrated into nothing. Like ashes from an abandoned fire the substance that had once been Harry Potter scattered to the wind floating through the open ceiling and dissipated before the night sky.

Harry expected Death to appear. To his astonishment, nothing happened.

Sirius Black collapsed in a large leather chair in the small sitting room of his small flat, above Gambol &amp; Japes in Diagon Alley. He'd just returned from Godric's Hallow with his God-son Harry Potter. He transfigured an extra dresser into a cot in his bedroom and the child was now sleeping peacefully. His best friends were dead, as was, he hoped, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The scene was a jumble and he was having trouble processing it all in his head.

About 12:30 am, Hagrid had found him at a local pub on the alley, and asked urgently if he could borrow Sirius' enchanted motorbike. Hagrid didn't want to answer any questions, but when pressed a bit he had said only that it was urgent business for Dumbledore. Sirius had handed over the motorbike and watched as Hagrid had shot into the sky and headed full out, West, Southwest, over Muggle London. It had taken a couple of minutes, but it soon occurred to him that, as the crow flies, that was roughly the direction of Godric's Hallow, and the home of his best friends, the Potters, who were in hiding there. On impulse he'd decided to Apparate to his friends' home and check on them. If it was something else–well it wouldn't be the first time Sirius had landed on the Potter's doorstep after a late night out.

When he appeared on the street in front of the cottage in Godric's Hollow, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong, very wrong. The Cottage should not have been visible. Instead, it looked as if there had been an explosion. He rushed into the cottage and after finding his best friend dead on the floor he had run up the stairs to find Lilly dead, an unidentified charred body and his god-son, asleep in his cot.

He sent a patronus to Dumbledore, and ignoring what he knew the man would say, he sent another to the local _Magical Emergency Office_.

A clap of thunder sounded outside somewhere in the distance and soon large drops of rain were pelting the windows. As the rain turned to a down pour, Sirius got up from his chair and crossed to a small table where he poured a drink from a crystal decanter. He turned to the fireplace and with a flick of his wand levitated a few more logs from the bin, into the grate, and teased the flame to a robust crackle. Returning to his chair he gulped at his drink and sat heavily again. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Sirius was woken by a loud knock at his door. He sat up quickly and looked around the room blearily. Soft streams of mid-morning light where entering through gaps in the curtains.

Sirius went to the door and pulled it open. Albus Dumbledore was there, smiling weakly, carrying an official looking leather binder and sporting a tattered umbrella. Rain was falling steadily. "May I come in Sirius?" he asked.

Sirius stepped back allowing Dumbledore to follow. A soft cry sounded from the bedroom door at the back of the flat and Sirius seemed momentarily surprised. "Make yourself at home Albus," he said as he turned and went to check on his god-son.

He returned a few minutes later with Harry in arm. Albus had hung up his traveling cloak and umbrella and was seated in the kitchen, the leather binder in front of him on the table.

Sirius filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove, then he opened the nearly barren ice chest and sighed heavily.

"Trouble?" Dumbledore asked.

Sirius looked at Dumbledore. "Just nothing in the flat for Harry to eat. An easily correctable problem I'd imagine."

"Ah," perhaps I can help in the short term. Dumbledore said something quietly and immediately a half dozen House Elves, dressed in Hogwarts tea towels appeared in the room.

"You desire something Headmaster?" they squeaked in chorus.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, addressing the Elves. "Would you be so kind as to bring an appropriate breakfast for young Harry?" He gestured to the child in Sirius' arms. "And, how about you Sirius, would you like something?"

Sirius shook his head.

"Just for Harry than," he said to the Elves.

"Immediately Sir," one of the Elves replied and bowing slightly they all popped away.

Harry squirmed in Sirius' arms and focusing on his god-father made a curios noise that sounded a bit like "arf, arf!"

Sirius smiled, at Harry and said, "I am sorry Harry, but no arf, arf, right now." Harry frowned.

Sirius crossed to the table and sat opposite Dumbledore with Harry in his lap.

"I take it, Harry is familiar with your Animagus form?" Dumbledore asked.

"You know about that?" Sirius asked.

Dumbledore chuckled. "There is very little that happens at Hogwarts, that I am unaware of," he said simply.

Sirius nodded.

A highchair appeared at the end of the table and a tray of food materialized. A bowl of warm porridge, a bowl of diced fruit, a few child's biscuits, pitchers of cold milk and apple juice, along with a child sized spoon and a choice of baby bottles or sippy-cups.

Sirius transferred Harry to the highchair and offered him one of the biscuits. Then busily prepared a smaller bowl of porridge with some of the fruit and placed it in front of Harry, with the spoon. Harry dug into it happily as Sirius prepared the sippy-cups. When he was finished he sat back down and said, "Thank you for this Albus."

"Happy to help," Albus said. "You know, I was half prepared to suggest Harry might be better left with his Muggle relations..."

Sirius interrupted angrily, standing at his chair and leaning into the table. "Not while I draw breath. That family is Muggles of the very worst sort!"

Dumbledore raised an open palm to calm Sirius. "But..." he continued, "Now I see him here, and see that you are obviously familiar with his care. I think that it is best he remain here."

Sirius nodded and relaxed. He had looked quite prepared to bite. He slowly eased back into his chair.

"Some adjustments will have to be made." Dumbledore continued matter-of-factly. "You may need to move to larger accommodations... I could perhaps loan you one of the school's House Elves, temporarily. Or, you could simply hire a house keeper," he paused. "Alternatively, I would guess Molly Weasley would be splendidly happy to help from time to time, and having two children very close to Harry's age, it might be good for Harry's development to have some, play dates, I think they are called?"

Sirius had gotten up while Dumbledore talked, to retrieve the kettle and prepare tea. He returned to the table with the steeping pot and service tray. "I appreciate all the suggestions Albus, and I will take them under consideration. Kreacher, has put me right off House Elves I'm afraid, so I will pass on that offer."

"As you wish," Dumbledore nodded. "Still the offer stands, in cases of emergency."

Sirius turned to Harry, who was making quite a mess of himself, but had managed to get most of his meal into his mouth happily. He offered the cup of juice which Harry took and drank noisily.

Sirius eyed the leather binder on the table. "Well, with the question of Harry, settled," he began, "I expect you come with news of other matters?"

"Yes, indeed." Albus replied. "I have spent most of the morning hours at the Ministry. The charred body that was found at the scene, has been positively identified as that of Tom Marvolo Riddle, better known as Voldemort. And of course Lilly and James were recovered. Also the beheaded remains of Voldemort's snake was found on the front lawn, with a freshly eaten rat lodged in its gullet. The rat was removed and upon examination was found to be none other than Peter Pettigrew, in his unregistered Animagus form." Dumbledore paused, but seeing no reaction from Sirius to this news, pressed on. "After an examination of the recovered wands, one was determined to belong to Peter. The last cast spell was "_Stupefy,_" and was concluded to have had nothing to do with the main altercation. Riddles' wand revealed three consecutive castings of the unforgivable "_Avada Kadavra_." Lilly's wand was found in another room and revealed no castings recent enough to have been involved. James' wand revealed an assortment of spells which have formed the basis of the Ministry's conclusion that–shortly before Midnight, Voldemort arrived at the Potter's home, and after defeating the wards, and front door, entered the cottage where he dueled with James. That duel ended with the first casting of "_Avada Kadavra_" and James' death. Voldemort, than proceeded up the stairs where he found Lilly, and Harry, in the nursery. He again cast the unforgivable, resulting in Lilly's death. The Ministry then concludes that Voldemort cast the unforgivable a final time at young Harry, and in a miraculous display of instinctive, self preservation magic, Harry released a bolt of raw magical energy sufficient to dispel the unforgivable curse, kill Voldemort outright, and cause the explosive damage to the home. All, while protecting himself and the body of his mother."

They both turned and looked at Harry somewhat dubiously. For his part Harry was slouching in the highchair his face and arms covered in porridge and bits of fruit, lightly banging the empty sippy-cup on the tray and gurgling juice bubbles from his lips, all while an enormous bogy bubble was forming from his right nostril.

Sirius raised his wand and cast a household cleaning charm which removed the breakfast residue and cleaned Harry's face and nose.

"Right?" Sirius said, protracting the word, as he turned his head back toward Dumbledore.

"That is the Ministry's official finding. Which, I might add has already been leaked to the press. The morning addition of the _Daily Prophet_, is already on the stands with a banner headline of _'The Boy Who Lived.'_ Further they are reporting the death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and heralding Harry, as the savior of the Wizard World.

Sirius dropped his forehead in his palm and said, "oh dear." He looked up, "I take it you do not agree?"

"Well, let's just say I have a few more questions," Dumbledore said. "Oh, by the by, you didn't happen to take a dagger with you when you went to Godric's Hollow last night?"

"No," Sirius responded with a dismissive chuckle, "why would I have done that?"

"Well it seems that a dagger was found on the ground near the snake," Dumbledore stated. "Precisely, a silver dagger with a 30 centimeter blade, an ebony handle and the crest of the Black family set into the guard."

"I know that dagger, it belonged to my Grandfather Pollux. I haven't seen it in ages. As far as I am aware it remains at Grimmauld Place," Sirius said.

"It is a mystery then," Dumbledore said. "The Ministry will be asking you about it. They are concluding, falsely, that as it is a Black family dagger, you must have brought it with you, and when confronted by the snake on the lawn, you were the one to remove said snake's head... It might be most convenient all around, if when asked, you simply agree, and tell them that the shock of finding your best friends and god-son as you did, simply made you neglect to say so."

Without much consideration, Sirius agreed. "If you think it best, Albus. It would give the ministry the nice tight conclusions they desire, and end any further investigation."

"Quite," Dumbledore agreed. "Now, lastly, as you will now be responsible for Harry, I took it upon myself, while at the Ministry, to convince Minister Bagnold to finally release the assets and properties of the Black family, seized after your Mother's death and your brother's subsequent disappearance, to you as your rightful inheritance. These papers," he pushed the leather binder across the table to Sirius, "are those which were held in the Barrister's office for you, until their release. I hope you don't mind, I used my position on the Wizengamot to convince them I could be trusted to deliver to you."

Sirius reached for the binder and began to open it. "Not at all, thank you," he said.

On top of the stack of legal looking documents was a thick sealed envelope addressed to Sirius. He picked it up and examined it. "This appears to be Regulus' handwriting." he broke the wax seal and pulled out several sheaves of folded parchment. He began to read as Dumbledore turned quietly toward Harry, magically cleared the dishes, conjured a set of wooden blocks and began to play with him.

After a few minutes, Sirius picked up some of the other pages with his free hand. "It's... Well its an apology." Sirius paused a moment. "He says that he had terrible regrets after joining Voldemort's forces. He says that during the course of his service he overheard many things and began working to uncover Voldemort's terrible secret."

"And, did he?" Dumbledore asked distractedly.

"Yes... Yes he did. It says that he learned that Voldemort, in an attempt to achieve immortality began, while still at Hogwarts, to create a series of something called Horcruxes."

Dumbledore's attention was immediately focused back on Sirius and the letter.

"Six to be exact, which, with himself included, formed a set of seven separate vessels containing parts of Voldemort's soul. He says that with the help of a friend he was able to locate all six Horcruxes and destroyed four of them. It was his hope that his friend would be able to destroy the last two and therefore be able to kill Voldemort."

"Which offers a plausible explanation for our mystery man with a Black family Dagger." Dumbledore said. "Does he name the friend?"

"No," Sirius answered. "He goes on to say how sorry he is that he joined Voldemort at all and how he regretted our differences as brothers. He says that he is writing down for me lists of all the Death Eaters he is aware of, the locations from which Voldemort and the Death Eaters operated, all the people he knew to have been placed under the _Imperious_ curse, as well as all the family's and individuals he knew to be inactive, but voluntary political and financial supporters of the Dark Lord."

Sirius brandished the lists. "This is incredible. The information contained here goes on and on."

"He concludes by pleading that I act on this information to set right all the wrongs that he and others performed in Voldemort's name." Sirius said, reading the letter again. "He ends the letter, simply, _I am so entirely sorry, Regulus._ But, there is a note at the end in someone else's hand. It reads, _I am certain Albus Dumbledore, will be enormous help in using this information to set things to rights, H."_

Sirius turned the parchment over in his hand to see if there was anything more. "That is it, Albus."

"Well, it certainly seems we have important work to do," Dumbledore said, taking the offered letter from Sirius and examining it curiously.

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**NEXT**  
Chapter Four  
**Time and Time Again**


	4. Chapter 4 - Time and Time Again

Chapter Four  
**Time and Time Again**

Before Christmas, 1996.

"We're so sorry... Uncle Albus," Harry said as he stepped forward and set a written apology on the Headmaster's desk. He stepped back immediately to stand between Ron and Draco. They all had there hands behind their backs, heads lowered, and were doing their best to look contrite.

"Headmaster Dumbledore..." Dumbledore said, doing his best to look stern. He steepled his fingers and sat back in his chair. "While I was pleased to allow such familiarity when you were children, here at school I must ask that you refer to me by proper title, or at the very least, Professor."

"Yes, Headmaster," The boys said in unison, still looking down

"What you have done is an affront to Professor Willoughby's dignity. He is quite angry." Dumbledore said. "I tolerate a good many pranks, especially when it is between students, and houses, and all in good fun. But, to prank a Professor in this way..." Dumbledore shook his head and breathed a heavy sigh through his nose. "I am afraid I will be taking points from Gryffindor for this, and I will inform your Head of House, that you are all three to serve detention, once you have returned from Christmas recess. Further, I will speak to Professor McGonagall, and insist this time, that setting you three to re-straw, wax and polish your Firebolts, is not in my mind an appropriate punishment."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, sounding sincerely sorry. "Is that all Un... I mean Headmaster." The moment would have been perfect, if Draco hadn't nudged Harry's elbow and sniggered under his breath.

"No, that is not all," Dumbledore said sternly. He looked more concerned than angry. "The three of you are sixth years now, I really must insist that you begin to curb your marauding tendencies, and set a more responsible example for the younger students. Harry, Draco, you are Co-Captains of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and therefore you are looked to as leaders. Ron you are a Prefect. Please do not make me consider adjustments to those assignments." He paused, "Now, I will be sending letters to your parents about this incident, and while I know Harry, that Sirius will slap you on the back proudly, and admonish you for getting caught, I trust that Andromeda, and Molly will see things a bit differently, so none of you will escape a lecture."

This caused Ron and Draco to begin to fidget nervously.

"Now, I expect you all have packing to do before the carriages arrive?" Dumbledore asked.

The boys looked up slightly and nodded their heads.

"Okay, off you go, I suspect I have kept you long enough that the girls are beginning to worry." Dumbledore waved them toward the door with the back of his hand.

Ron and Draco turned immediately and headed for the door. Harry lingered long enough to say "Thank you Sir, and Happy Christmas Un... Headmaster."

Dumbledore chuckled as the boys hurried out the door. He leaned over his desk and picked up the apology letter giving it a quick read. He chuckled again. _Why is it so impossible to be mad at those three,_ he thought to himself before crumpling the letter and tossing it into the bin near his desk.

At the bottom of the Gargoyle steps the girls were waiting. Hermione looked worried, Ginny looked largely unconcerned, and Luna looked her airy self. As the boys bound into the hallway from the steps, Hermione was first to speak. She stepped directly to Ron. "Was it bad? I know it must have been bad this time." She worried aloud.

"Nope," Ron said, as he took Hermione's hand and kissed her forehead. She blushed slightly. "But, he did say he is sending a letter to Mom, so the worst is yet to come,"

Ginny sniggered. "Well there goes a happy Christmas vacation." she said.

Luna walked to Draco and took his hand. "Did you tell him that the hearts and cupids boxers were my idea? Draco made a sad face and shook his head no. "Does this mean I will not get to see you during Christmas?" Luna asked concernedly.

Draco raised their joined hands and twirled Luna in front of him in to his waiting free arm. "Oh, heavens no. For you, my darling, I'll sneak out if I have to." He said melodramatically, then he dipped her and stole a kiss from her lips. Everyone laughed. "We're all going to be at the Minister's Mansion for Christmas dinner, remember?" Draco said finally. He righted Luna and kept his arm around her waist.

"Oh yes..." Luna said distractedly. "Then, I don't need to leave my bedroom window unlatched?" She winked at Draco.

"Don't you think we should all be packing?" Harry asked.

"You are quite right, as ever Harry," Draco said still gazing in to Luna's eyes.

"Let's go then," said Ron.

The two couples headed down the hallway at a quick pace, holding hands.

"Coming you two?" Hermione called back at Harry and Ginny.

"I've finished already," Ginny said.

"Well, I haven't" said Harry, as he turned down the hall to follow the others.

Ginny's hand reached toward Harry's as it swayed at his side, but she pulled it away before their fingers touched. Harry didn't notice. Ginny frowned. "Race you to the common room," she said as she slapped Harry's shoulder and sprinted past him.

The two of them zipped past the others at a full run.

Back in his office, Dumbledore, still chuckling over the boys, stood up and cleared some of the student files from his desk and walked to a cabinet. He opened the wooden cabinet front and placed the files on the top shelf. On the bottom shelf there was an old looking lock box covered by a thin layer of dust, amidst a haphazard stack of books and papers. It caught his eye and seeing it he stiffened slightly. He looked toward the bin where he had just tossed Harry's apology letter, and then back at the lock box.

With sudden haste Dumbledore pulled the lock box out and took it to his desk. He unlocked the box with his wand and started rummaging through the jumble of papers inside it. Finally he found an old envelope addressed to Sirius Black and pulled out the letter. He laid the letter flat on his desk and then retrieved Harry's letter from the bin and carefully flatted the crumpled parchment. For a few moments he looked back and forth from Harry's letter, to the scrawled note at the bottom of Sirius's.

"No," he breathed in disbelief. "It can't be." he said aloud, "It simply can not be... Unless..." He sat heavily in his chair the letters still side by side in front of him.

In the Headmaster's office Dumbledore fussed over a brass caldron, dropping in a few last ingredients and giving it a quick stir.

A pale wispy vapor began to rise from the caldron and Dumbledore leaned down waving it toward himself and inhaling deeply. Seeming quite satisfied he ladled a small amount of the potion in to a waiting tea cup. With saucer and cup in one hand and wand in the other he retreated to his desk.

Sitting comfortably he set down his cup and wand and took up the two parchments that had occupied so much of his thoughts over the last several weeks. He had formulated a theory and this would be the test. A very dangerous road to travel, but if he was correct, it would be the only way to know. He set the parchments down, lifted and drained the tea cup. He then took up his wand, pointing it at himself and muttered an incantation. He stiffened slightly as though frozen, then after a minute his body relaxed, his arm and wand falling slowly to the desk. The wand slipped from his relaxed grasp and he slumped on the chair as though he had suddenly fallen in to a deep sleep.

Harry stood in the corner of the office, leaning against the wall, waiting.

Dumbledore woke slowly, taking several moments to get his bearings, he looked around his office. It was odd, everything was there, just as it should be, but it all seemed, somehow insubstantial.

"Hello Professor," Harry said, obvious pleasure in his voice. "I presume you can hear me?"

"I can indeed," Dumbledore said. He stood, leaving his corporeal self, still slouched in the chair. He looked down upon himself. "I expect this will take some getting used to," he said with a grin. He stepped around the desk, wondering suddenly if that were quite necessary now.

Harry approached with outstretched hand and shook Dumbledore's. "It is quite wonderful to talk to you Professor," Harry said, "But you do realize you are breaking about a half dozen Wizard laws, and I suspect at least one of nature's,"

"Yes, well, I had to know the truth," Dumbledore replied.

Harry looked at the Headmaster's body still in the desk chair. "You know this is very dangerous." Harry stated worriedly.

"Why don't we take a walk, you and I," Dumbledore said, as he touched Harry's arm and headed him toward the office door.

A moment later they were walking through Hogwart's busy halls. Students of all ages were moving hurriedly on their way to classes. The two walked leisurely along waiting for the clamor to cease as students found their classrooms. A small boy came rushing around a corner and ran directly through them, then bound through a classroom door, held open by a waiting Professor.

"Dumbledore spoke. "Oh, that is an odd sensation."

"You get used to it," Harry replied resignedly. After a long pause he spoke again. "I suppose you have many questions, Professor?"

"I do indeed," Dumbledore nodded. "But first let me indulge my own curiosity. I have known you Harry, or rather, your younger self for his entire life. I have always sensed a magical presence surrounding him. I am correct in assuming that was you?"

"Yes, I imagine that would be true." Harry answered.

"I didn't understand it for the longest time, until the day I realized that his handwriting was an exact match for that at the bottom of the letter left for Sirius by his brother Regulus." Harry nodded. "When I realized that little fact it seemed obvious that the only explanation was that you had somehow travelled through time?"

"I did," Harry said wanly.

"So, it was you that night in Godric's Hollow. You killed the snake, and you faced Voldemort... and you died doing so."

"Well, yes... I suppose I did.. at least my body did." Harry said, "But, a part of me did not... I am afraid I have never understood it."

"Perhaps I can help," Dumbledore said encouragingly. "Tell me Harry, when exactly did you travel back in time?"

"It was May second of next year," Harry responded.

"Well there you have it," Dumbledore said brightly. "When a wizard travels through time they remain in time until the instant they originally travelled, at which point the timelines converge and time rights itself. Though, such a long journey through time, such as you have made is unprecedented. I cannot tell you what will happen when you reach the end of your journey."

"You suspect that when I reach that moment I will simply cease to be?" Harry asked with trepidation.

"I cannot say with any certainty." Dumbledore said, "But I am reasonably certain, something will happen."

"I don't understand," Harry said finally. "Voldemort killed me, I let him, I had to. I was ready to die... I failed to save my parents, and I wanted nothing more than to join them in death, and yet I found myself still walking around. At first I thought I'd become a ghost, but I soon realized that even ghosts could not see me. I cannot say what I have become."

"Here is my suspicion..." Dumbledore began. "You recall Harry, what Voldemort had done to try to achieve immortality?"

"Of course," Harry said. "He created Horcruxes. Six of them. Meaning he split his soul between seven vessels. Seven being a magical number that he felt would have some powerful meaning. The result was of course that until all aspects of his soul had been eliminated he could not be killed."

"A task which you undertook to achieve, and did." Dumbledore said, pride for Harry evident in his voice. "But in your own time, before you journeyed back, I suspect things unfolded quite differently."

Harry chuckled. "Very differently... In my time, on the night my parents were killed, There was no one there to save me. Voldemort cast the _Avada Kadavra_ upon me, and protected by my mother's great love, the spell rebounded upon him and ripped away his corporeal existence. Because of his Horcruxes his soul was protected and he continued as a disembodied spirit. Unfortunately a part of his soul was torn away by that event and attached itself to me, giving me this." Harry pulled his hair from his forehead showing Dumbledore the jagged lightning bolt scar.

"Curious," Dumbledore said. "And, that is why you had to die that night. Because you too were in a sense a Horcrux."

"Yes sir," Harry answered.

"Harry, when a Wizard travels in time, he forces two of himself into a single time stream. But, as two of a single person cannot co-exist, I have long suspected that they must in some way be a single person. I have theorized that they must share a single soul between them in that time." Harry looked as though he was ready to protest, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him and continued. "I believe this is the case here. You were killed that night, but your younger self survived unscathed. In a sense you became your own Horcrux, leaving you a disembodied spirit, tethered to your younger self until such time that you reach the proper moment and time can resolve itself."

Harry was contemplatively silent.

"I suspect when that moment is reached we will see if I am correct." Dumbledore said. "Until then, as I have now devised a way to visit with you, I would very much like to hear the story of your time... will you indulge the curiosity of an old man, Harry?"

After a moment Harry nodded.

"Good, tell me everything, begin at the beginning," Dumbledore said.

"We should stop this Albus," Harry said in protest. "Each visit makes you worse in your real life. I hated to see you have to step down as Headmaster."

They both stood in the Hogwart's hospital wing as Headmistress McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey fussed over Albus Dumbledore apparently asleep in the hospital bed.

"Nonsense Harry," Albus said calmly. "Who is to say which is real?"

"But look what it is doing to you!" Harry raised his voice.

"Harry," Albus continued with irritating serenity, "The damage is already done, there is no going back now. The potion and incantation are no longer necessary, I am more in this place than in my own physical existence. I have made my choice, and repeatedly asked you to respect it."

"Yes, Sir," harry said resignedly, "But I hate to see them worry so, and witness what is happening to you."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, at this point in the tale of your time, I have already died. And, as your time occurred first, relatively speaking, it is the correct time, so I feel there is a balance here, one I am perfectly honored to strike... so please, let's not worry about these meager events, I am far more interested in your tale.. So please do continue." Dumbledore directed Harry from the room, and Harry, somewhat reluctantly turned to walk with his friend.

"So, please do continue. We have arrived at the divergence, what happened after you grasped Death's watch?"

Harry shot Dumbledore a final look of disapproval, then after a long moment continued his tale.

"When I woke, I was laying on the snow in the exact spot I had been, but of course in a different time. I was a bit confused at first, not even aware of the cold, and for the longest while I just sat there in a daze. Slowly, my mind righted itself and the weight of what had happened pressed itself upon me. I had no plan, and a quick check of my person told me I had come back with only the clothes I was wearing. Interestingly, my clothes were exactly like new again, not a tear, not a thread out of place."

"I got up and made my way to the castle, firstly to escape the cold. It was still before dawn. After getting warm, It occurred to me that if I was to seek out and destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes, I should start with the closest one at hand. It was a simple matter in the pre-dawn hours to make my way to the room of requirement undetected."

"I entered the room and easily found the hiding place of Rowena Ravenclaw's lost diadem. I found an old coat and knapsack, tucked away the diadem and made my way back out to the woods, all before sunrise."

"Once I walked far enough into the forest, I apparated to London. There I learned from the date on a discarded Newspaper that I had journeyed back in time to January of 1980."

Dumbledore interrupted. "But Harry, that was seven months before you were born?"

"Yes, it was." Harry replied. "But Death did say that I could journey from one beat of my heart to any other."

Dumbledore nodded.

Harry continued. "I had no money, no food, no wand, and no real plan. I felt certain it was important to make no contact with my parents, though I sorely wanted to."

"For that entire day I wandered through London trying to devise a plan. Eventually I concluded that I would have to make contact with someone, but I wanted to choose a person whose knowing would do the least amount of damage to the future."

"Unfortunately, cold, hungry and tired, I could think of no one. So, I determined I would simply have to trust someone and thought the best someone might be my god-father Sirius Black. I made my way to Grimmauld place– having forgotten completely that Sirius would not be there at that time."

"It was cold and snowing by the time I arrived. Having learned it's location in my own time, it was easy enough to find the house, so I simply went up to the door and knocked."

"To my great surprise it was Regulus that opened the door. He met me with his wand drawn and he was in an obvious panic. He demanded to know who I was and what I wanted. I told him that I was a traveler and a friend of the Black family. He looked around nervously and finally pulled me into the house. He asked if I was a Death Eater, and when I said I was not he demanded to see my left arm."

"There was a hideous groan from somewhere in the house and Regulus, left me briefly. By the time he returned I had put it together and guessed I had arrived on the very night when Kreacher had returned from the cave by the sea, where Voldemort abandoned him."

"I knew it was a huge risk, but I decided to trust Regulus. I followed the sounds and found him cradling Kreacher in his arms in the upstairs hallway. The Elf had been forced to drink the foul potion as a test, and then left to the Inferi in the dark cave. It was only because Regulus had ordered him to return afterward that Kreacher was able to Apparate home."

"I explained that the Elf had been forced to drink a potion and asked Regulus if he had a bezoar anywhere in the house. Regulus ran off to find one and I ordered Kreacher to empty his stomach. I don't know why he obeyed, but he sat up then and vomited the foul potion. Regulus returned and ordered Kreacher to swallow the small stone. Kreacher fell unconscious and I helped Regulus clean him up and return him to his cupboard."

"That night I explained what had happened and what Kreacher had been made to do. When Regulus questioned how I knew all of this, I was honest and told him that I had travelled back in time to see to Voldemort's destruction. It took some time to convince him, but as my knowledge agreed with the scraps of information he had already gathered, eventually he admitted I knew too much to be lying."

"Regulus agreed to let me remain at Grimmauld place. He was there alone, as his ailing mother had recently been moved to a room at St. Mungos. He even gave me a wand that he had collected from one of the Death Eater's excursions. He was not able to tell me to whom it had belonged."

"In the days that followed I told him everything I knew about the Horcruxes. He ordered Kreacher to stay hidden and reveal to no-one but Regulus and myself that he had not perished in the cave."

"Regulus continued to serve Voldemort, doing his best to remain on the sideline and out of Voldemort's direct attention. He continued to gather information and he and I began planning as best we could."

"The first Horcrux we targeted was the Locket, knowing as we did just what to expect. We went to the cave with a supply of bezoars, two jugs of water, and a broom. Regulus and Kreacher went in the boat and I followed low and slow on the broom. We got to the island without incident. We had fought over who should drink the potion, but in the end Kreacher volunteered to do it again."

"This time he swallowed a bezoar first, Regulus ordered him to drink the potion and after switching the lockets ordered Kreacher to vomit. We were careful to stay clear of the lake surface and used fire spells to keep the Inferi at bay as we made our escape. Once out of the lake cave we gave Kreacher fresh water, another bezoar and Apparated back to Grimmauld place."

"Later that summer, just before my actual birth, we journeyed to the Gaunt House, in Little Hangleton. There, after working carefully to dismantle the many wards and curses left to protect it, we were able to recover Marvolo Gaunt's ring. Here again, Kreacher was invaluable– It was he who pulled the ring from its burial place beneath the floor boards. Only under a direct order from Regulus was he able to handle the ring and overcome the compulsion curse to put the ring on a finger. We were able to return to Grimmauld place, and now we had three of the six Horcruxes. The Diadem, the Locket and the Ring."

"After that there were problems. We had the Cup, the Diary, and the Snake left to find, and while I knew exactly how I had dealt with those objects in my own time. In this time... Well, all I knew was that at some point Voldemort was going to give Lucius Malfoy the Diary and Bellatrix Lastrange the Cup, presumably for safe keeping. I was not sure that, that had yet happened or if they would be told what they were really being given."

"The other problem of course was that we were amassing these Horcruxes and did not have a way to destroy them."

"We had little choice but to lay low and watch. Regulus was informed that September, that his mother would be returning home, from St. Mungos, I convinced Regulus that keeping the Horcruxes, and me, at Grimmauld place would be far too dangerous. So, he provided me with enough funds to take a flat in Muggle London. I conjured false papers and assumed an identity as Evan James."

"I found that as an unknown and unsuspected presence, I could move around quite easily in both the Wizard and Muggle worlds. I went to a Muggle Salon and had my hair color lightened, I even got Muggle contacts."

"Contacts?" Dumbledore asked, "Oh yes, we have those now in the Wizard world. Quite popular with the youngsters."

"By late Fall, Regulus was struggling to care for his mother and maintain his position as an apparently devoted Death Eater. I, on the other hand, was taking odd jobs and doing my best to stay aware of everything that was happening around me. Death Eater attacks were increasing and the Wizard world was becoming a dim and frightened place as Voldemort's power and influence increased steadily."

"Our first big break came when one day I happened into the Museum of Magical History and discovered that they had a large display of Magical creature skeletons. Among the objects on display was a large collection of Basilisk fangs."

"With a bit of luck, I was able to get a job there as a security guard. It was quite easy, after I had worked there a couple of months, to gain access to the storage vaults and acquire a couple of the, newer, stored fangs."

"It helped that some of the guards had formed a black market ring and were selling various artifacts from the Museum's stored collection."

"Once I had the fangs, I went to a secluded forest area, and used them to destroy the first three Horcruxes."

"Regulus reported that Voldemort did not seem to be aware of their destruction, but he was becoming increasingly paranoid, and consequently was directing more and more attacks. He also was pressing Lucius to increase efforts toward gaining political control of the Ministry."

"Regulus, finally overheard Lucius bragging to his own circle of Death Eater confidants about being given a great assignment, and a token from their Master. Making him, so he said, Voldemort's most trusted servant."

"That worked well for us as Lucius began spending less time in Voldemort's direct presence and more time at the Ministry currying political favor and organizing the pure blood families."

"By December it was common knowledge that Lucius would be hosting an invitation only Christmas gala at his home and inviting the political and monetary power elite of the Wizarding world. As the only remaining members in good standing of the Black Family, Regulus, and his mother received an initiation in due course. While I, through my contacts with some of the more unsavory museum guards, managed to get my alias on the list as temp wait staff for the catering service."

"We had only figured that the party would be used as reconnaissance. We had no idea if the Diary would be at Lucius' home, but we could not pass on the opportunity to case Malfoy Manor."

"The gala turned out to be exactly as expected, a bunch of stuck up rich elitist Pure-Bloods, mixing with greedy, power hungry politicians, dishing out false praise and flattery, all while securing favors and making empty promises. Despite open eyes and ears, there didn't seem to be anything to be learned there, and the whole thing was quite boring. That is, until mid-way through the evening when I was asked to go to the cellar to find a House-Elf and ask him to retrieve a special bottle of Brandy from the Malfoy's private stock."

"I went as directed and found a small unlocked cell where Dobby was cowering, severely beaten and bruised. I told him what bottle was needed and he popped off to retrieve it. After delivering the Brandy I returned to Dobby's cell and against his protests healed some of his bruises and generally tried to make him more comfortable. I didn't dare tell him how I already knew him, or what he had come to mean to me, but I talked with him and listened to his complaints about his situation– And, tried to prevent him from inflicting any more pain through self punishment."

"I went back several times during the night. Finally, I took a huge risk and told Dobby I really wanted to be his friend and asked him to trust me. I told him I was an enemy of the Dark Lord and that just knowing me could be dangerous. Dobby seemed to find that idea exciting and he promised he would try to help me if he could. So at that point, I simply asked him about the Diary."

"Immediately he talked about a foul dark empty book that Lucius kept trying to leave in the Baby's nursery. He had heard his Master and Mistress arguing about it. Lucius insisted that the book's presence would have an appropriate influence on his son. But, apparently the Mistress was frightened by it. Consequently, Dobby had, several times, moved the book away from the baby to a side table in the hall. It had lead to his most recent beating. Dobby told me that his Master had now forbidden him from ever touching the book again. But smiling, Dobby simply said that he didn't need to touch the book to move it."

"I told Dobby that if he needed to come to me he could, and I left him."

"Finding the Diary then became extraordinarily easy, It was right out in the open outside Draco's room, an ordinary looking blank journal was of no particular interest to anyone. I was able to scoop it up easily after arranging to deliver a tray of refreshments to some of the house security stationed in that part of the Manor."

"I knew the snake would have to be the last Horcrux to deal with, so that just left Madam Hufflepuff's cup to find. And I still had a full ten months left to find it.

"Are you sure you are alright Professor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry, I don't know what to say to assure you." Dumbledore replied.

"It's just that, you don't seem to be able to control your transitions." Harry observed, delicately. "Last visit you disappeared quite suddenly and you haven't returned for nearly six months, and I am afraid, watching you, you are not entirely yourself when you are not visiting me. I can tell everyone around you is terribly concerned."

"Not to worry, m'boy," Dumbledore said reassuringly, "I feel I have things well in hand, and I have asked you not to concern yourself with what you have observed."

"Yes Sir," Harry said finally after a long thoughtful pause.

"Now, I know it has been some time," Dumbledore said, "do you remember where you left off? I am quite excited to hear the rest of your tale."

Harry chuckled a bit at Dumbledore's intent expression, and then pressed forward with his story. "I believe I left off telling you how I was able to get the Diary from Malfoy Manor."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded, as he began walking slowly down the corridor.

Harry matched the older man's relaxed stride and continued with his story.

"After I managed to get the Diary, I started to feel a sense of urgency about finding the cup. Based on the ease with which I was able to acquire the Diary, I concluded that Voldemort had not told Lucius or Bellatrix, the true significance of the objects they had been given. However, because in my own time, I had to retrieve the Cup from the Lestrange's Gringotts vault, I was not at all eager to try such a thing again."

"Most understandable," Dumbledore interjected.

Harry continued. "Voldemort's war was getting worse, and it was becoming much harder to meet with Regulus. Consequently our planning had stalled. I could tell that he was very uncomfortable with the things he had to do to maintain his cover. Also, his Mother, having overextended herself to attend the Christmas Gala had immediately thereafter become bedridden. Every day I scoured the papers for news of further attacks and lists of the missing."

"In late April, Regulus was finally able to get away and he came to my flat unannounced. He had been summoned by Bellatrix a week before to a sort of family meeting. It turned out that as Voldemort's plans were proceeding, there had been a number of changes within the ranks of the Death Eaters and there was lots of distrust and accusations as various Death Eaters were vying for favored position."

"Bellatrix wanted to make sure that the core of family were equally committed and would hold together to maintain their high status within Voldemort's graces. The way he described it, she was convinced that they would emerge with great power if they held true to the Dark Lord's plans. She was equally convinced that there were spies and deceit among the Death Eaters and she was determined that they should focus on rooting out anything that could threaten Voldemort's plans, and of course her's, for the family."

"He reported then that he had seen the Cup at the Lestrange's home, proudly displayed in a curio cabinet in Rodolphus' study."

"When he returned home that night he discovered that Grimmauld Place had been broken in to, and much of the house ransacked. Fortunately, there was nothing there to incriminate him as a traitor, with the possible exception of Kreacher. He found Kreacher in his mother's room, The Elf had successfully barricaded the door so no one had been able to enter, but the fright had caused his mother to fall into a catatonic state and she had to be returned to St. Mungos."

"When I asked how anyone had been able to locate the house, I learned that while the house remained hidden from Muggles, unplottable and heavily warded, the _Fidelius_ charm had never been renewed after his father's death for lack of a trustworthy secret keeper. Regulus was certain this all meant that he was suspect and he was now being watched. We took the risk to Apparate to Diagon Alley and floo into Grimmauld Place from a public floo grate. Once there Regulus cast a new _Fidelius_ charm and made me secret keeper. This protection eased his mind somewhat, but he knew that when his family figured out that none of them could access the house, speak, or even write the address, he would fall under further suspicion."

"That night we decided that he should write a letter to Sirius with all the information he had concerning Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and he would visit the family's Barrister to arrange that his brother would be the inheritor should anything happen to him."

"Two days later Mrs. Black, passed while still at St. Mungos. I visited Regulus one last time. He showed me the letter and the lists he had prepared, and it was then that I added my short note. He gave me a huge amount of funds he had withdrawn from the black family vault, and when I protested he told me that he would not allow me to fail in my mission for lack of money. He sealed the envelope for Sirius, told me he had an appointment with the Barrister the following morning and said that he feared he would not see me again. Before I left that night I took the silver dagger from a cabinet in the Dinning room. At the time I think I just wanted some sort of memento."

"I secretly attended Mrs. Black's burial, remaining at a distance. I had thought that I might get a glimpse of Sirius, but he did not attend. Instead, Lucius, Narcissa and Bellatrix were there with Regulus. That was the last time I saw him."

"So, then I was alone, with two more Horcruxes to destroy and no real plan as to how to accomplish the task."

"Mrs. Black's death weighed on me, as I knew that in my time, she had lived several more years, so her's was the first death I could directly attribute as a direct consequence of my presence."

"I turned all my concentration to devising a plan to acquire the cup. By the end of May, with still no viable plan, I was becoming quite worried. There didn't seem any possibility of my being able to break in to the Lastrange home on my own. Finally it occurred to me that what I really needed was a thief, and though I knew I could not completely trust him, it occurred to me exactly who I needed to find."

"Under cover of _Polyjuice_ potion and an old tattered cloak, I began to visit some of the more unsavory places of the Wizard world. Finally, one night in mid-June, in a disreputable little pub off of Nocturne Alley, I found him– Mundungus Fletcher."

"Really Harry," Dumbledore chuckled, "How could you seek out Mundungus for any help, Dung was a member of the Order, but I never really trusted him."

"Well, I had the advantage of knowing exactly what I needed to know about him. First, I knew him to be a crook. Second, I knew, as a member of the _Order of the Phoenix,_ he had no ties to any Death Eaters. And, last, I knew that he could be easily influenced by money."

"I introduced myself to him as a representative of a foreign antiquities collector, and offered to buy him a drink. After showing him my arms to prove I was not a Death Eater I let him tell me a few of his more colorful tales until he seemed at ease. Then, I told him that the collector I represented had learned the location of a particularly valuable artifact. One that was known to be stolen. I told him that if he would entertain the possibility of acquiring the object, I would pay a very generous finders fee. After planting that seed, I got up to leave. Before I departed, I told him, if he was interested in learning more, he could meet me in the same place in two nights time."

"At the appointed time, disguised exactly as before, I went back to the pub, and was pleased to see Dung, there to meet me. He had a friend with him, a wiry young man he introduced as _Fitz_. It didn't take him long to get right down to business. He wanted to know what I needed stolen, from where, and of course, how much I was willing to pay."

"I told him I was not comfortable discussing the matter in the pub, and the three of us left to find a more secluded place. They followed me out of the pub, and out of Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron to a deserted Muggle alley. I cast _obscuro_ and _Muffliato,_ before I would speak further."

"I told him that the object in question was the golden cup of Helga Hufflepuff. I was pleased that he knew of it. He recited that it had disappeared from the estate of Hepzibah Smith, many years before. It seems it had become an object of some legend among those who deal in stolen artifacts. His eyes seemed to light up at the prospect of its worth."

"When I told him that I knew it to be located in the home of Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lastrange he balked, saying that only a complete idiot would try to steal from that household."

"Fortunately, his young friend was either that stupid, or that bold. Because he quickly pointed out that such a pure-blood family, who rested so much on reputation as the Lestrange's did would make the job far more dangerous if they were caught or in any way detected, but that the job itself might actually be easier to pull off. He and Dung began quietly arguing the task."

"I excused myself then, saying that if they were unwilling to pursue the matter, I would look elsewhere. But if they would reconsider, I would pay a finders fee of, one hundred thousand Galleons, in the form of Gringott's international, paper notes, payable upon delivery, and one hundred Galleons a piece for expenses."

"Fitz, then asked me how they could contact me. I asked if he knew how to use a Muggle pay phone. He nodded and said, with a smile, that he was Muggle born. I handed him a slip of paper with my number, and he said they would give me an answer within forty-eight hours. I nodded and simply Apparated away. It didn't take them the full time to make their decision. I received the call before sunset the very next evening."

"It was obvious that Dung was uncomfortable on the Muggle phone, but he managed to get through the conversation all right. He said that they would do the job for the finders fee, but that it would involve he and four associates, all of whom would need expenses. I attempted to negotiate a bit, thinking it would be more convincing and finally agreed to pay them four hundred galleons up front."

"I told Dung, that the job would have to be completed within two and a half months, and once they received my payment, backing out, or failure, was not an option. I suggested that they should nick anything else they wished as cover for the real target, and whatever else they got was of course theirs to keep. Then I assured him that I would know the true object, and any deceit would be met with deadly consequences. That seemed to make him chuckle nervously, but he agreed. I instructed him to send Fitz to King's Cross the next morning at nine to collect payment. I said I would know when it was received and that they were not to attempt to contact me thereafter, until they had the Cup. Once they had it, he should ring me immediately, to arrange to meet and complete our transaction."

"I am curious Harry– whom did you impersonate with _Polyjuice_ potion?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh," Harry hesitated at the unexpected question. "No one really, just a nice, older, Muggle gentleman I met in London. I helped him on with his coat outside a coffee shop and retrieved a number of hairs from his scarf as I did so."

Dumbledore nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"The next morning I got to King's Cross before nine and placed the four hundred Galleons, inside a Muggle back pack, in a storage locker. When I saw Fitz arrive I found a boy passing outside on a skateboard and offered him a fiver to deliver the locker key to Fitz, whom I pointed out. The boy agreed and afterward returned happily to collect the money."

"I watched as Fitz opened the locker and retrieved the bag. I returned then, to my flat, with nothing left to do, but wait."

"From then on, every time I read a report of Death Eater attacks I hoped for a call from Dung. The war was getting really bad, and I began to doubt my plan, but I held onto hope. I took a job at a Muggle coffee shop near my flat to help pass the time."

"Finally, when the two and a half months had nearly passed, on a terribly stormy night, I received the call. It was four in the morning by my alarm clock that the telephone woke me up. I picked it up and Dung sounded frantic on the other end. He said they had managed to get the Cup, but two of his lads had died in the process. He wanted to deliver the cup and get paid so he could get out of the country. I told him I would meet him alone at the middle of the Muggle Tower Bridge in exactly ten minutes."

"I got up, downed the prepared _Polyjuice_ potion, threw on the old cloak, grabbed the suitcase full of Gringott's notes and apparated to a spot near the bridge that I had chosen weeks before. By the time I arrived at the middle of the bridge, Dung was already there pacing nervously. He didn't say anything at first, he just handed me a small cloth bag. I could tell immediately, without even looking, that it was the Horcrux. I handed him the suitcase and said, 'good luck Dung.' He looked at me queerly and said, 'nice doing business with you," and he Apparated away."

"I did the same, Apparating to my flat where I changed, grabbed my pre-packed nap sack and Apparated to the woods where I had destroyed the other Horcruxes. I pulled the cup from the small bag and set it on the ground. Without ceremony, I retrieved my last basilisk fang and jabbed it into and through the golden cup. It howled an unearthly wail, as green smoke billowed from the jagged tear in the gold, and then it was done."

"I dug up the Horcrux remnants, which I had buried in a Muggle plastic bag, added the damaged cup to the collection of broken, artifacts, and Apparated to Godric's Hollow."

"There, with the last of the funds Regulus had given me, I paid in advance for five weeks in a Muggle Bed and Breakfast, and began quietly waiting for Halloween."

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Chapter Five  
**One Moment in Time**


	5. Chapter 5 - One Moment in Time

Chapter Five  
**One Moment in Time **

Harry walked along the cavernous concrete corridor that formed the second tier, outer ring of the new Quidditch stadium. Game goers were crowding toward the small entrances to the stands pushing and jostling for position. Hogwarts' students were posted by each of these doorways to look at tickets and direct people toward their seats.

Harry had walked these corridors many times throughout the construction of the new stadium and he found that he felt a sort of satisfaction in the space. Even now, as it filled with Wizards and Witches from all over the U.K., and felt more like the Quidditch World Cup, than the final game of the Hogwarts season, he still felt at ease. There was an exhilaration in the air that he had always associated with Quidditch, and the grander scale just made it that much more exciting.

Albus Dumbledore, faded in to being next to Harry, matching his steps. "Good evening Professor," Harry said as he continued along his way.

"Albus," Dumbledore said, "I think Harry, that you have earned the right to call me Albus. After all your counterpart in this time calls me Uncle Albus, when he can get away with it."

"I don't know," Harry replied casually, "It has always felt right to call you Professor... Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled, "As you wish, Harry."

For a few minutes the two strolled along the stadium corridors in comfortable silence.

"Are you excited about today?" Dumbledore asked finally.

"Sure," Harry replied, "It really ought to be a wonderful game."

Harry turned down a stairwell and they made there way to the ground level, where, after a few turns they wound their way out onto the field. The seats were filling up fast and it was a sight Harry had been anxious to see.

"How big is this stadium again, Professor?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked at Harry quizzically, as though confused by the chosen topic. "Hmm, as I recall the architects said it would seat fifty thousand," he answered tentatively.

"Wow," Harry said softy. "Why so big? I mean, Hogwarts students and faculty combined would never fill but a fraction," Harry mused.

"It will be used as a professional stadium a good portion of the year," Dumbledore filled the silence, "and the intent was to hold the Quidditch World Cup here in August."

"Oh," Harry said wistfully, "I should liked to have played here myself."

"Well," Dumbledore replied taking his opening, "In a sense you will, or at least you will get to watch yourself."

"Not quite the same, is it." Harry said.

"I suppose not," Dumbledore said quietly. "Harry, when I asked if you were excited before – I didn't mean about the game."

"I know Professor," Harry replied dolefully.

"Pardon my curiosity Harry, but I would like to know how you feel?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry chuckled. "You would think that I'd know, wouldn't you. But my mind is a jumble. For the past seventeen plus years I have lived vicariously through my counter part, and I have watched the Wizarding World undergo so many changes. It is, in so many ways, a better world than the one I left."

"But?" Dumbledore encouraged.

"But," Harry said, "sometimes the sacrifices make me sad." He paused. "I miss Neville... and Nymphadora.. and Moody... and others."

"Neville?" Dumbledore asked.

"Neville Longbottom." Harry blurted out as though Dumbledore should have known the name very well.

"Oh," Dumbledore said, understanding coming to him, "Yes, Neville, the Longbottom's child. He would have been about your age. Very sad, what happened to that family. I take it in your time, he was alive... possibly a friend?"

"Yes," Harry said sadly.

"And, Nymphadora, and Moody, were friends as well.?"

Harry had turned away, but he nodded. "In my time, Tonks and Remus Lupin got married. They had a son named Teddy."

"Professor Lupin?" Dumbledore smiled.

"Yes," Harry said. "I knew that I would change things... I knew that there would be consequences... It's just... I expected to be the one to pay the price."

"And you feel you haven't?" Dumbledore protested. "Harry, you are a disembodied spirit. That was a direct consequence."

"Yes, but hardly a difficulty. I got to see myself grow up with Sirius as a loving guardian, doing everything he could to keep my parent's memories alive for me. My counterpart's life has been ideal compared to mine, he is wealthy, famous, confident, with great friends. I'll admit, Draco was a bit of a surprise to me. But, my life in this time has been the life I dreamt of as a child, locked in my Aunt and Uncle's cupboard. I got to see two of my best friends in the whole world Ron and Hermione, find each other when they were in their fifth year. When I left my time They were still only beginning to admit how much they cared for one another. And, then there is Ginny."

"You loved your Ginny?" Dumbledore asked gently.

There was a long pause. "Yes... I loved her... I still love her, but I pushed her away to keep her safe."

"But, Harry and Ginny are together now in this time."

"Yes, and it happened in much the same way, after the Quidditch final in our sixth year, but, my counterpart doesn't seem to understand how much... he... how much I love her."

"Ah... I see," Dumbledore said in consideration. "Harry, they have had different experiences, you cannot expect them to do things, or feel things as you do... If it is any consolation, I believe your counterpart does love her, he just has more growing up to do than you did." He paused for a long while. "Are you afraid in all that has changed, that they will not choose to remain together?"

"No... Yes..." Harry sighed a long breath, "I don't know."

"Harry," Dumbledore began. "You made a deal with death, the true consequences of which, I suspect we shall learn tonight when the moment comes for the timelines to resolve and become one again. All in all, I would say things have turned out quite favorably."

"Yes Sir," Harry said rather automatically.

Harry turned to face Dumbledore, but he was fading away. Harry had grown used to these sudden disappearances and reappearances. He waiting expectantly for a few minutes. Then with the din of the stadium recapturing his imagination, he turned and moved to take a seat on the foundation of the Gryffindor goal posts to watch the game.

As the game began Harry couldn't shake the understanding that this was it, this was the night that he made his deal, and sometime after sundown, would come the very moment. He didn't know exactly when it would be, but he imagined when the moment came, time would freeze. Death would appear, and Harry was resolved that he would willingly go with Death to whatever lay beyond for him. Yes, people had been lost that had not been lost previously – There were also people saved, so many who would not die in the final battle. He had made a better world, he was sure of it. Now he had only to leave it and let it run it's course. Harry relaxed, and settled in to watch the action above him.

"Welcome back Professor," Harry said as Dumbledore reappeared. "You've missed a bit of the game."

Dumbledore sat down next to Harry. "Well, not missed it exactly," Dumbledore chuckled, "Fifty thousand seats in this new stadium, and leave it to you Harry, to find the best seats in the house."

Harry pointed excitedly to the players above as Ron blocked a shot. The Quaffle fell directly toward he and Dumbledore, and Harry cheered loudly as Ginny swooped down and caught the ball before it reached the sand.

"I do so enjoy a good game," Dumbledore said delightedly. Harry grinned at him and nodded.

For a while they enjoyed the game together.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked after a bit.

"Yes Professor," Harry responded distractedly as he watched the game.

"There is something I have been meaning to ask you about," Dumbledore said.

"What is it?" Harry turned at the serious tone of Dumbledore's voice.

"The Horcruxes," Dumbledore asked, "I recall you saying that you put all the pieces of the broken Horcruxes in a bag and took them with you... I just was wondering what happened to them?"

Harry thought for a minute. "Yes... Well when I got to Godric's Hallow, I paid for a room, that took most all of the rest of the money I had. I burned the remains of the diary in the fireplace in my room there, until I was sure that nothing of it remained. I pried the resurrection stone from Marvolo Gaunt's ring and tossed it into the ocean, during a day trip for that very purpose. The Ring, the Locket and the Cup, all being made of gold, I melted magically into a single small ingot. I cast several cleansing spells on the gold to make sure no residual magic remained and then I sold it by weight to a local Muggle jeweler. I used that money to cover my living expenses."

"And the Diadem?" Dumbledore asked.

"That was made of silver and encrusted with gems, and it was far less damaged then the other objects. I took it one day to Gringotts, and asked to have it appraised, probably not my wisest move." Harry chuckled at himself. "It was clear almost immediately that the Goblin's knew exactly what it was. I played innocent, told them that I had found it at the bottom of a pool in the forest of Dean, during a camping trip. I don't know if they believed me or not, but I offered to sell it, which seemed to please them. We haggled a little and I am sure they paid only a portion of its worth."

"They seemed genuinely confused when I asked them to send the money as an anonymous donation to Hogwarts. I have no clue really, if they did it or not." Harry said.

"They did," Dumbledore now chuckled, "Thank you Harry, for that."

Harry just smiled. After a brief pause he spoke again. "Professor, I have a question for you."

"Hmm?" Dumbledore responded distractedly.

"Have you any idea what ever became of Dung?" Harry asked.

"I don't know Harry," Dumbledore replied. "He was officially listed by the Ministry, as missing, presumed dead. No evidence otherwise has ever come to light to my knowledge."

"That's good I suppose," Harry said wistfully "I like to imagine him on a beach, somewhere warm. At least there is no evidence that I am wrong."

Dumbledore chuckled.

Action on the pitch drew them both back in to the game and they ceased further conversation. Caught up in the excitement Harry almost forgot the approaching moment. Together he and Dumbledore cheered and clapped and laughed as the game progressed. And both were on their feet excitedly, along with the entire stadium, as Harry caught the snitch.

They cheered as the players swarmed Harry who waved the snitch at the crowd in victory.

"What are they up to?" Harry questioned aloud as he pointed to Crabbe and Goyle.

Dumbledore just had time to make them out as their bludgers flew toward the victorious Harry.

As though it were happening in slow motion, Harry watched the bludgers zooming toward their target, and he froze in fear. _Is this it then,_ he thought. _Is this the price – they knock me from my broom I fall to my death – time is balanced and goes on without me?_ The inevitability of it flooded him. He saw clearly the balance of it, and accepted that it was right – deeply sad, but right. He couldn't look away, he drew what he thought would be a last breath and though he could actually smell nothing in his present state, he imagined the sent of the fresh mown field, and even the trace fragrance of uniform leather and broom wax. He whispered, "I am about to die."

Then, motion caught up with perception and he saw a flash of red hair as Ginny moved to intercept the bludgers. The first struck her arm and he could hear it break from his place on the field. The second glanced from her left temple and he saw her falling. He was moving fast as he leapt to the field in an attempt to catch her.

He could hear Dumbledore shouting, "There is nothing you can do Harry," but he ignored the words.

He was there in the spot, arms outstretched and ready, as Ginny fell directly toward him, with every ounce of his being he willed this intervention. Ginny slammed into the ground at his feet, her head striking first, with the frightful, sickening sound of her neck snapping.

Harry froze in shock as he looked at the girl he loved so dearly, apparently dead at his feet.

Suddenly, the other Harry was there, surrounded by teammates. He was crying thick tears as he knelt by her and pulled her into his arms gently cradling her unmoving form. He spoke for both of his selves as he sputtered through his tears. "Please Ginny, wake up... Ginny, please... don't leave me... You can't die... not now... not like this... I never got to tell you... Ginny, I love you... Do you hear me Ginny... I love..."

Time stopped... The moment had arrived.

Harry spun around screaming, "Where are you! Death! Why?!" he collapsed to his knees in the still grass, hot tears flooding his face. He felt hands grasp his arms, but it was Dumbledore pulling him back to his feet. "Professor, you are still here?" Harry exclaimed through his tears.

"Indeed I am Harry," Dumbledore said. "As is your expected visitor." Dumbledore turned, motioning to the cloaked figure of Death, appearing now as the same dark haired young man, Harry remembered from before.

Harry wiped his sleeve heavily across his face to remove the tear tracks. He was angry. "Are your happy Death?" he shouted, "Come to collect me now, and take Ginny as an extra prize?"

"You imply that I have had some hand in these events," Death stated evenly. "I told you once Harry, it is not in my nature to determine the hour of a mortal's demise. I merely collect them upon that hour. Everything else is fate's design."

"You are here, solely to honor your bargain with Harry then?" Dumbledore asked calmly, "To collect the Hallows?"

"Not exactly, Albus." Death replied, as he waved a hand in a slow circle through the air. "Though the Hallows have now been collected."

"What will happen to the actual objects?" Dumbledore asked.

"Ah, such curiosity," Death said to him, almost as though speaking to a friend. "You have long been curious about the Hallows, haven't you Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded, almost sheepishly.

"The stone has lost it's power and is now like any other pebble in the ocean," Death said. "The cloak, will remain a cloak, but it's enchantments will now fade as would any normal cloak of invisibility. And, the Elder wand, which in this manifestation of events, remained your wand Albus, is now no more special than any other wand, and I suspect, when your heart finally beats it's last, will be entombed with you, as is an oft followed Wizard tradition."

"What are you talking about," Harry interjected determinedly. "What does it matter about the Hallows. What about Ginny?"

Death turned to look at Ginny, cradled so carefully in Harry's arms. "The girl is fatally injured," he said indifferently, "But as her soul has not yet departed, there remain a few moments before her fate is determined."

"So she is going to die." Harry said, his head hanging low as tears once again began to flow.

"I did not say that," Death said impassively, "It is a matter for another moment, and so I cannot give you an answer, for I simply do not know."

"Okay," Harry said finally in a resigned voice, "But now our bargain is done, I must go with you?"

"Go with me?" Death said with a eerie chuckle. "Whatever makes you think you will be going with me?"

Harry was suddenly confused. "But time has to correct itself, my journey must be at an end. I thought I would have to go with you."

"No Harry," Dumbledore said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "This is not your moment, see you are there." He pointed at the other Harry on the ground. "And, you appear to be very much alive."

"Then what is to happen?" Harry said still confused.

"Time must be corrected, Harry" Death said, now speaking compassionately. "Our bargain is complete, I have retrieved the Hallows, and you have accepted my watch. You, Harry, have become a spirit unbound by time, but tethered to your own life as it played out in two possibilities. In this moment which was and is and ever will be a single moment – you must cast your living soul from your spirit consciousness into your living self, to make a single being, as you have ever been meant to be. All that you remember, will be forgotten and time will be whole once more."

"So, I will not remember anything?" Harry questioned.

"One cannot remember, what never happened." Dumbledore said sagely.

"Wait," Harry said suddenly to Death. "What did you say about the watch?"

"That you accepted it. You took it Harry, and in doing so you sealed our bargain. It became yours. Once freed of your mortal soul, your unbound spirit will serve as Death itself. My season will come to a close, and your season begins."

"What!" Harry exclaimed, "I will be Death! It's a trick, I don't have your watch. You tricked me!"

"Yes, I suppose I did" Death said in the deep low laugh, as it faded away into nothing.

Harry reached in to his trouser pocket and pulled out the golden watch. The hands on its face were still.

"What have I done Professor?" Harry said horrified.

"You made a choice Harry." Dumbledore said calmly "You changed fate, and in doing so, you made a better world."

"But, Ginny," Harry said a deep sadness in his voice.

"This is not her moment Harry," Dumbledore said reassuringly, "Make yourself whole. Let the watch click to its next moment. I have never known a soul so full of love as yours. Where so much love abides, there is certainly room for miracles."

"I do not know how, Professor" Harry said.

"I suspect it is the simplest thing, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"I can't," Harry shouted, trying, unsuccessfully, to cast away the watch. "Ginny's cannot be the first soul I collect." Harry wept, the watch still firmly in hand.

Dumbledore chuckled loudly, which caused Harry to look at him queerly. "No, Harry, that would be too great a price, I believe instead, I will take that honor. And believe me Harry, it will be my great honor."

"What?" Harry said aghast.

"You did not think I could continue as I am, once this was all concluded," Dumbledore said quite happily. "Now, Harry, the choice has already been made, you must now, let it be."

Albus Dumbledore was correct, and Harry knew it. He looked one last time upon the man who had been so many things to him, and then he turned to look upon the face of the girl he loved so dearly, and finally upon the boy that was himself.

A small, brightly shining light rose from the center of Harry's being and floated silently to the boy on the ground. It entered him and the resulting flash caused Albus Dumbledore to shield his eyes.

The watch hand clicked forward.

"... you... I love you!" Harry pulled Ginny closer still, and then he stiffened. A bright light flashed so unimaginably quickly that no one could say they had in fact seen anything.

"I love you too, Harry." Ginny said weakly.

Harry looked down into Ginny's soft brown eyes as they fluttered open. He was stunned silent by the emotion in those eyes. He felt his soul flooded with love.

"So, now you've said it Potter. What are you going to do about it?" Ginny said teasingly.

Harry crushed his tear stained face to hers, in a deep kiss, which she quite obviously returned.

A live image of the kissing couple flashed across the enormous stadium screens.

The voice of Oliver Wood boomed over the silent stadium. "Well, it appears that Ginny is alright, Tony. That was a nasty fall, but it seems she's okay."

"So it would appear, Oliver, better than okay I'd wager." Anthony Berkhart, continued. "I guess we also have our answer to the question you so skillfully evaded earlier."

"So it seems, Tony," Oliver said, "So it seems."

The stadium broke into thunderous cheering and applause. With the possible exception of a few of the readers of _Teen Witch Weekly_.

"Well, Harry, m'boy," Dumbledore said jovially, "I told you love could make miracles." He could not help but let out an undignified "Whoop, whoop!" along with Harry's teammates.

"Harry?" Death questioned as he stood looking at his watch. "I have not come for Harry, Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore turned to face Death. "Of course not."

"We have not time to linger here, we must be on our way, Albus," Death said ominously, as he closed his watch.

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "It will be my honor."

**_Fini_**

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